


Bouquet

by everydayistuesday



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Coming Out, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester is Not Heterosexual, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Falling In Love, Flowers, Gabriel Ships It, Happy Ending, I mean short chapters seriously, I was going to have a cool plot but I had too much fun writing fluff, John Winchester’s A+ parenting, M/M, Mostly Fluff, No Smut, Short Chapters, flower shop au, he might make an appearance, i will do my best to put any trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters, it is referenced though, it’s an accident though, mild homophobia, no one likes John Winchester, referenced abuse, there will be some angst maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 38,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everydayistuesday/pseuds/everydayistuesday
Summary: Castiel Novak owns a flower shop in Sioux Falls. He’s used to the arrangements people ask for around Valentines Day; roses, orchids, flowers to act as declarations of love. He’s not used to gorgeous men asking for “fuck you” bouquets.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 28
Kudos: 353





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, so this is my first fic in the Supernatural fandom. Just a heads up, so if it sucks... ya know. Constructive criticism is appreciated, as is any feedback, with the exception of flames.  
> This is a WIP as of now, so everything is subject to change. Probably nothing big, but I might play around with details and stuff.

Castiel Novak ran a small flower shop in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It was nothing special; just a corner shop full of flowers with a back room for lunch breaks. A dime a dozen. 

Business was busy February fifteenth, just as it always was. Even though Valentine’s Day had been the day before, there were plenty of people who had forgotten the holiday and were looking for late bouquets for their significant others. 

So, when the bell above the door sounded, Castiel had headed towards the chrysanthemums. 

“Forgot about yesterday?” he said, without looking at the customer. “Chrysanthemums and orchids are usually good, as well as roses….” Castiel trailed off, heading back to the counter for a scissors. 

  
“Actually,” the man said, “I need a flower that says ‘fuck you.’”

  
“Oh-“ Castiel turned to look at the man, and his breath hitched. 

The man wore jeans and a hunting jacket, under which an AC/DC t-shirt was visible. He had amber hair, stubble, and hard, transfixing evergreen eyes. Evergreen eyes that were fixed on Castiel. 

“Oh- right.” Castiel gave a start, then headed for the other end of the shop. “Wild tansy, then, as well as St. John’s Wort, pumpkin flower, basil, and- do you prefer red or white garden anemone?” 

“What?” the man said. 

“Red or white garden anemone?” 

“No, I mean, er, what does that all mean?” the man asked awkwardly, cheeks going slightly pink. 

He was quite cute, Castiel found himself thinking, when he was blushing. 

“The wild tansy is for a declaration of war,” he explained, “Saint John’s Wort and pumpkin flower are for animosity and crudeness. Basil is hatred. Red or white garden anemone is for poison.” 

“Huh. Well, I’ll take whichever anemone is more poisonous,” the man said with a grin. “It is poisonous, right?”

“If eaten, it can cause some minor illnesses. Other than that, the worst that will happen is skin irritation from handling,” Castiel told him, “If you wanted an arrangement that would kill someone, you would want nerium oleander or the castor oil plant in it.” 

  
“I take it that you don’t have either of those?” the man said hopefully.

“I don’t endorse murder, no,” Castiel said with a small smile. 

“Dammit. I’ll take the red, then.” 

Castiel began collecting the flowers. “I take it that yesterday didn’t go in your favor...?” 

The man grinned wryly. “Dean. I decided yesterday would be a good day to, er, tell my girlfriend that I play for both teams. She didn’t take too well to that.” 

So he’s available, Castiel thought happily. Then he felt guilty for being thrilled about that.

“Well, Dean, if she can’t accept you, then she’s not worth it,” Castiel said. He reached to grab a few flowers to trim the stems off of, not paying attention to the ones he was grabbing. 

“Woah, wait- aren’t those the poisonous ones?” Dean said, quickly grabbing Castiel’s hand to pull it away from the flowers. 

Castiel looked more closely at the flowers. Red garden anemone. Rarely was he so distracted that he handled those without his gloves to prevent the discomfort and itchiness that came after. 

“Oh, yeah. Thank you. Forgot gloves. My bad, I’ll just-“ he realized that Dean was still holding his hand. 

Dean seemed to realize that as well. He let go hurriedly. 

Castiel grabbed a pair of gardening gloves from off the counter and went back to the anemone. 

“No problem.” Dean watched as Castiel assembled the bouquet, trimming the ends of the stems, tucking the blossoms amidst each other, wrapping it, then finally passing it back to him. Dean examined its vibrant reds, yellows, and greens. “Bit bright and cheery for a ‘fuck you,’ bouquet, huh?”

  
Castiel nodded his agreement. “Whoever wrote floriography was evidently unaware of the emotions associated with these colors.”

“Yeah. How much for this happy hate bouquet?” 

Castiel gave him the price. 

Dean paid quickly, thanked him, gave him a last smile, and left, holding his bright and cheery “fuck you” bouquet.

  
Castiel watched him leave, and continued staring at the door, long after the bell had sounded to signal that he had left. 

It struck him how personal that had been- Dean had told him minutes after the two of them meeting that he was (or at least, Castiel assumed) bisexual. Something he was guessing he hadn’t told this girlfriend that quickly. He wasn’t sure why Dean had decided he could confide in him so soon, but he wasn’t complaining. 

Hopefully, he thought, Dean would come back. Usually, Castiel didn’t open up very quickly to people, but he found, miraculously, that the idea of talking to Dean wasn’t an unwelcoming one.

Dean Winchester couldn’t stop thinking about the florist. That was how he was referring to him in his head, since he hadn’t had a name tag or anything, and Dean had forgotten to ask. He had been too busy staring. 

The florist. Dark, slightly messy hair, a warm looking sweater, and wide, electrical blue eyes. 

Dean felt weirdly drawn to him. Maybe he should have asked for his number. 

Instead, he had asked for a “fuck you” bouquet for Lisa, which he was driving over to her apartment right now.

There was snow on the ground, and the temperature was far from warm, but the wind wasn’t awful. The sun was out as well. If it had been twenty or thirty degrees warmer and the sun wasn’t so damn bright, it would have been a nice day to walk there. 

Squinting against the light, Dean made his way to the Roman Apartment Complex. 

It was a sprawling mess of buildings, all of which had the same upscale look to them. Lots of large windows, well pruned trees, and large fountains that lit up spectacularly at night. The insides were the same way. Crystal chandeliers in the lobbies, expensive carpet in the rooms, and a cleaning staff that never slept. 

Lisa’s room was on the third floor, which meant a ride in the glass elevator, and a short stroll through the spotless hallways to room three twenty two. There were no doorbells in the complex, so he knocked.

Dean had a fleeting wonder as to where the florist lived. Surely not in one of these luxury apartments. Maybe in a small house or in that brick complex a block or two away from his shop. There was one balcony there that always had an arsenal of colorful potted plants and flowers in the spring and summer. He hadn’t ever really wondered who had lived there and tended to those plants until-

The door opened.

“Hey, Lisa,” Dean said amiably. 

“Dean.” Lisa surveyed him and the bouquet carefully. “What are you doing here?”

“Flower delivery,” Dean said. “I picked it up ten minutes ago, made specially for you.”

“Is this your way of apologizing for saying something so disgusting last night?” Lisa said coolly. “Because you’re going to have to do better than that.”

“No. Actually, it’s a ‘fuck you’ bouquet,” Dean said matter of factly. “Wild tansy for war, basil for hatred, good ol’ St. John’s Wort for animosity and the like.” 

  
He had actually paid a decent amount of attention to what the florist had said. Which was surprising, since he hardly gave plants a second thought. Then again, the florist could have been talking about the history of cardboard and Dean would have listened raptly. 

The wrapping crackled as Dean put the bouquet into Lisa’s hand and gave her a smile. “Really fits you, don’t you think? Enjoy the flowers.” With that, he turned and left her standing in her open doorway. 

He made his way back through the spotless hallways and elegant lobby to his Chevy Impala. 

As he climbed into the driver’s seat, his phone rang. Dean answered.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Dean. How are you?” Sam asked. 

  
Dean smiled, turning the key with one hand and holding his phone to his ear with the other. “I’m doing fine, Sammy. How about you?”

“Good. Really good, actually.”

“You sound a bit better than good. What happened? Did you finally ask that chick out?” 

“Jess and I are dating now,” Sam confirmed. Dean could almost hear his brother’s smile through the phone. “She actually asked me out, if you can believe it.” 

Dean grinned. “Good for you, Sammy. Just make sure that you’re the one who asks about the ring in a year. I’m glad at least one of us had a Valentines’ Day that worked out.”

“We’re not going to be getting married in a year, Dean,” Sam said. “I think it'll take a bit longer than that. Anyway, what happened to your Valentine’s Day?”

“Lisa dumped me. No big deal, though. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” 

“That sucks. How come?”

“Er, dinner. I didn’t take her to a nice enough place.” 

“She broke up with you over that?” Sam didn’t sound as though he believed him. 

Time to change the subject. “Yeah. So, how’s college going? Been to any good keggers?” 

By the time Dean had driven to his apartment, Sam had made it clear that he had not gone to any keggers- Dean suspected otherwise, but didn’t press it too hard- and relayed a number of stories about his nutty psychology professor. 

“So get this- we were studying fear, which is a normal part of the curriculum. He’s talking about the science aspect, then out of nowhere, he set a desk on fire to see how we would react, then made us analyse it for an essay. What kind of teacher does that?” 

“I got no idea. Probably a nutter, though.”

Sam agreed. “Yeah. Well, speaking of essays, I have one I need to finish up for my government class.”

“So you’re just going to bail on me? Thanks, Sammy,” Dean said sarcastically.

“Anytime. Talk to you later, Dean,” Sam said. 

“Bitch,” Dean said endearingly.

  
Sam laughed. “Jerk.”

The call ended, leaving Dean with his thoughts, which quickly shifted from Sam to the florist. 

He had to see him again, Dean decided. Which left him with one option. 

He was going to have to go back to the flower shop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So last time I uploaded the non-edited version of the chapter... sorry about that. It’s fixed now, though. Any and all mistakes are my own.

Castiel didn’t expect Dean to come back the next day, and he didn’t. The guy had no reason to buy flowers, and therefore no reason to come back. It didn’t stop him from hoping, though. 

  
Every time the bell above the door sounded for the next few days, Castiel’s head snapped to face the door. 

“So. Who are you waiting for?” his coworker Gabriel asked the fifth day this happened. 

“No one,” Castiel said. He hid his disappointment, then went to help the entering customer, a lanky blonde woman looking for centerpieces for her parents anniversary party. 

Once she was gone and the shop was empty again, Gabriel smirked at him. “Please. I don’t know who showed up the other day, but whoever it was must have been something.” 

“Gabriel, there is no one that I am waiting for. I’m simply enjoying my work,” Castiel sighed. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to call bull when the bell rang again, and Dean walked in. 

Today he was wearing the same jacket, only with a red checkered flannel and black t-shirt under it. If possible, he looked even better today than he had the first time Castiel had seen him, and then he had looked gorgeous. 

Of course, Castiel didn’t tell him that. Instead, he greeted him with a pleasant, “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean said with a grin. He paused, then added, “Do you have anything that would mean, er... ‘good luck?’”

“Yes, narcissus should work, paired with red peonies and hydrangea.” Castiel began hurrying around collecting flowers.

Gabriel was watching the entire interaction, amused. “Really?” he whispered to Castiel. 

Castiel gave him a look, then proceeded to ignore him. 

“Sounds good,” Dean said. It seemed that he hadn’t heard Gabriel. “So do you have this entire flower language memorized, or what?” 

“Memorized. I’m not fluent, by any means- that is, I do have a translation key behind the counter- but I do make it a point to know most of the more common floriography translations,” Castiel said, gathering the flowers. 

Dean seemed impressed. “Huh. So would you say it’s more or less useful than Spanish?”

“Less useful, for sure,” Castiel said, trimming the stems. “People who major in Spanish usually get better jobs.”

“You don’t like your job?” Dean said, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” Castiel said. “But generally speaking, Spanish is more useful.” He cast around for something to say. “So… what is your job?”

“I’m a mechanic,” Dean told him. “Pay isn’t great, but I like the work, and the hours aren’t too bad. I mean, it’s not like I’m getting weekends off, but I’ve got Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturday mornings.”

“How many hours a day?”

“Seven to four, with a break for lunch. You’re working ten to six today, right?”

“How did you know that?” Castiel asked, startled.

“I, er, read the hours sign by the door,” Dean said.

“Oh- oh, right. That makes sense. I forgot we had that up.” Of course that was how Dean knew. It wasn’t as though he had been watching Castiel. He had only met him for the first time a few days ago. Obviously Dean had read the sign. 

Castiel finished arranging the flowers, then started wrapping the bouquet.

They stood in silence for a moment as he fished, then Castiel passed Dean the flowers. 

“Thanks,” he said, then pulled out his wallet. “And also thanks for the great arrangement yesterday. Lisa loved it.” 

Castiel stared at him, bewildered. “Lisa… your girlfriend?” 

“Ex-girlfriend,” Dean corrected. 

Ex-girlfriend was good, Castiel thought. Ex-girlfriend was very good.

“She loved the ‘fuck you’ bouquet that you gave her?” he said instead.

“Yeah. I gave it to her, told her what it meant, and she didn’t throw it at me or anything.” Dean grinned at the memory. “She might have been a bit shocked. But it worked. So thanks.”

“Anytime, Dean,” Castiel said. 

  
“Well, then, see you around,” Dean said. The bell above the door sounded, and he was gone. 

“ _That’s_ the guy?” Gabriel said incredulously. “Him?”

“Gabriel, I’m not-“

“You are.” 

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to deny something, and if you’re denying, then you’re lying.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “And anyway, we practically grew up together, so I know that when you don’t make direct eye contact, you aren’t being entirely honest.” 

Castiel couldn’t argue with that. It had been his tell since he was six, and Gabriel, being his brother and having been his partner in crime for just as long, couldn’t have failed to notice that.

“So, you got Dean-o’s number?” Gabriel slipped a brightly wrapped piece of candy from his pocket. 

“Eat that in the back room, Gabriel.” 

“Fine.” He tucked the candy back into his pocket. “I’ll take that as a no.” 

No, he didn’t. He didn’t even know his last name. All he knew was that Dean was single, worked as a mechanic, wasn’t straight, and was quite cute. 

The bell above the door sounded. 

“Don’t worry, little bro,” Gabriel said. “Even if I think you have a mediocre taste in men, I’ll help you out with him.” He headed over to help the customer, leaving Castiel to his thoughts. 

Dean was enjoying his day off. He had been able to wash the Impala, listen to some music, and call Sam. That had lasted him into the early afternoon. By two o’clock, his baby was spotless, he had gone through all of his music, and Sam had informed him in length about both his law classes and a date that he had gone on with Jessica. 

With nothing to occupy him, his thoughts turned to the florist, like they had been recently. Why he kept thinking about the guy, Dean wasn’t sure. It might have something to do with his soft smile, or ocean eyes, or gravelly voice. Dean couldn’t figure out exactly what it was about him.

After about fifteen minutes of trying and failing to think about something else, Dean gave up, pulled on his jacket, and made his way to the flower shop. He had been so thrilled to see the florist again that he had forgotten that he was going to have to buy something to avoid looking stupid. 

The other guy behind the counter had looked quite amused when he asked for a “good luck” bouquet and the florist had gone to grab the flowers for him. He had briefly wondered if “good luck” bouquets weren’t a normal thing for people to buy. The only reason he had asked for one was because the day before at work, Kevin had been going on about a big test he had coming up, and Dean had jokingly told him, “With all the studying you’re doing, you’ll need either a hell of a lot of coffee the day you have your test, or a hell of a lot of luck to stay awake.” Also, he was in a flower shop, so he had to buy flowers.

After Dean had left, hydrangeas, red peonies, and narcissus in hand, he had headed to a nearby bakery to pick up some pie, then back to his apartment. 

He didn’t have anyone to give the flowers to (he could have given them to Kevin, he supposed, but that would have been a little weird), so Dean stuck them in a tall glass since he didn’t have any vases. Once they were taken care of, he turned to the pie. It was gone before the day had ended. 

Dean spent Friday enjoying his time off, but by Saturday morning, was ready to head back to Bobby’s Auto. When it came time for his shift, it passed quickly as he laughed with his coworkers. Really, they were closer to family. Kevin fretted about his test, which he was assured by everyone would go fine. Charlie went on about the dragon she had slayed in DND the previous night and the cute stuff her girlfriend had done recently, while Dean told her that she’d better not get her heart broken. Bobby grumpily told them to get back to work, but everyone could tell he didn’t mind their chatter, and was actually enjoying it. They made an odd group, but a good one. As always, it was almost disappointing when it came time to close. 

Charlie was the first to leave, followed shortly by Kevin, which left Dean to lock up with Bobby.

“So, is Sam planning on swinging back around here any time soon?” Bobby asked him.

“Not sure,” Dean said. “He’ll be back for summer, at least for a few weeks, but I don’t know if he’ll be back before then.”

“Doesn’t he always stay here for summer?” 

“Yeah, but the place I got doesn’t have a spare room, that’s why he wasn’t here for Christmas. I told him that I didn’t mind sleeping on the couch for two weeks, but he ‘didn’t want to impose.’” Dean shook his head. “That was for two weeks, summer is two and a half months. And, his girlfriend, Jessica? She’s from Vermont, and he wants to visit her. So he’ll be out of town for a while already. He might just decide to crash at her place for two months. And he likes California a lot, so he might decide to rent a place there for part of the summer.”

“Well, you find out. I’ve already got kids asking about jobs for the summer, so if he wants one, I’m going to need to know to hold him a spot.”

“Will do. It’s a bit early for kids to be asking about summer jobs, though. They don’t normally start asking until the weather is decent.” 

Bobby checked the lock on the garage door. “Beats me why they’re asking this early,” he said with a shrug, “but it does help me with numbers.” 

They finished up quietly, then headed out into the employee parking lot. 

“Has John tried getting in touch with you at all lately?” 

Dean tensed at the mention of him. “No, he hasn’t.”

“Good,” Bobby said. “Told him I’d crack his spleen in half if he came near you boys again.”

“It’s been two years, Bobby,” Dean said. 

“You never know,” Bobby said. “Sam had any problems with him?”

“Not that he’s told me about,” Dean said. Dad was one of the topics that the two of them had silently understood to be off limits.

“Good. Glad he’s not stupid enough to.”

They were quiet as Dean locked the door from the outside then tossed the key to Bobby. 

“See ya, Bobby,” Dean said. 

“Better be on time tomorrow, idjit.”

Dean got in the Impala and drove home somberly. 

He remembered all too well the occasion when he had last seen John Winchester. Drunk out of his mind, fists flying, and using his favorite punching bag, Dean. Saying that he and Sam owed him for all those years under his roof, eating off his table, wearing clothes paid for with his money. It hadn’t ended well. Not only had it landed him in the hospital, but it had solidified his hatred for John.

John Winchester may have been his father, but he had not raised him, or Sammy for that matter. That had been all Dean. 

There was a reason he didn’t like talking about John, and that was because it meant that he would end up thinking about him, something he would rather avoid, for many reasons.

Dean got home, thoughts still stuck in the past, and a scowl on his face.

When he had flipped the lights on in his apartment, he was greeted by the bright bouquet on his counter. 

The brightness of it, the cheeriness, normally it would have made him retreat further into his anger. But that bouquet, somehow, was different. It drew him out.

Without knowing quite why, he smiled. 


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few weeks, Dean continued to go to the flower shop, getting bouquets for any and all kinds of occasion. He came in at least once a week, which quickly became Castiel’s favorite part of work. 

  
Throughout his visits, Castiel had learned more and more about him. He had a brother who was going to school for law, who he talked about like a saint. His car, a ‘67 Impala, was his pride and joy. He loved pie. Classic rock was his favorite kind of music. Of all the things Castiel learned, where he lived, his number, and the name of the mechanic’s place that he worked weren’t any of them. Each time Dean came in, though, he would hope that Dean would let some offhand comment slip about one of those things, and provide Castiel with a way to seek him out rather than waiting for him to show up at the flower shop.

Gabriel kept giving Castiel suggestions to ask Dean out, none of which were very good. Some of them weren’t even legal. Unfortunately, they were the best ideas that either of them had, so he was stuck waiting for Dean to show up, rather than following him home, then holding him at gunpoint until he agreed to go on a date with him. 

Fridays were usually very quiet, which Castiel liked. They were also shorter- they opened later and closed early. And, best of all, their last customer was usually Dean, which meant that they could talk for as long as they wanted. 

On that particular Friday, it was pouring rain, which meant business was slower than usual. That meant he and Gabriel had had plenty of time to talk, and Gabriel hadn’t given up on getting Castiel to do something illegal to ask Dean out. 

“I mean, honestly. What could go wrong?”

Castiel sighed. “I’m not a computer hacker. I couldn’t hack into a government website if I wanted to. Even if I could, it would be sloppy since I’m not experienced, and then I would be arrested.”

“Fair enough,” Gabriel shrugged. “Maybe you should kidnap his brother and hold him hostage until Dean-o agrees.”

“Sam is in California.” 

“Minor problem.”

“Kidnapping is illegal.”

“So? Just don’t get caught.” Gabriel pulled out a piece of hard candy from his pocket. “Or if you’re so against doing illegal stuff, just ask him out the next time he shows up.”

“Eat that in the back room, Gabriel.”

Gabriel sighed dramatically, then headed for the back room. 

The rest of the day passed, thankfully, without any more talk of Gabriel’s plots. Ten minutes before closing, the bell above the door rang, and Dean walked in. 

He looked like he had climbed out of a lake- his clothes and hair were drenched, and he grumbled, “You need better parking.”

Castiel nodded. “We’d need a better building,” he said. “One that actually has a parking lot.” 

“It would be a good investment,” Dean said. “Preferably before the next time it pours.”

Castiel gave him a small smile. “No promises. How’s Sam?”

Dean brightened up a little. “He’s good. Actually, he’s top of his class in law.” It was impossible to miss the pride in his voice when he told Castiel, “Some guy actually asked about giving him a job, from one of the big law firms.”

“That’s great,” Castiel said, “What did he say about that?” 

“He’s keeping it in mind. Jess thinks he should take it, but he wants to wait until he’s done with school.”

“Is the position going to be open that long?”

“The guy who talked to him thought so,” Dean said.

“If it’s still open, he should take it. Or he could try it out for the summer, if he decides to stay there,” Castiel said. 

“Might be a good idea. I’ll mention it to him. So how about you? How are, uh, your siblings?” Dean asked. 

“I can hear you, you know!” Gabriel called from the back.

“Gabriel is fine, as you can hear,” Castiel said, only to be interrupted.

“Kali broke up with me again last week. Is that what you call fine?” 

“They’ve broken up six times since they got together last year,” Castiel said, rolling his eyes. “He loves being a drama queen.” 

“Please. I’m not a drama queen! If anyone is the dramatic sibling, it’s you.” 

Castiel gave Dean a look of pure exasperation, then continued. “Luci is in prison again for arson, and Michael is spending half his time trying to sue him. Anna is still ‘off the grid.’”

“Lucifer is in prison for arson.” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“He lit Michael’s luxury penthouse on fire while he was visiting him.”

“Huh.” Dean nodded as though that type of thing happened everyday. (It did, in the Novak family, but from what Castiel had gathered, it wasn’t normal between Dean and his brother. The Winchesters weren’t big on arson, it seemed.) “You must have fun family gatherings.”

“Yes, they’re a blast. Literally. Something usually explodes.”

Dean nodded, grinning. “It’s never a party until something blows up.”

“No, never.” They looked at each other. “So, what are you here for?” 

“To see you,” Dean said, then realized what he had said and when pink. He plunged on hurriedly. “I mean- and get, you know, flowers. That too.”

To see him. Could that mean that- was Dean…?

Castiel realized that he was gaping. He gave a start, then said stupidly, “Right. Of course. What kind of flowers?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe, uh, something bright? Or cheerful?” Dean suggested awkwardly. 

Castiel nodded. “How do you feel about azalea, buttercup, crocus, primrose, and forget-me-nots?”

Dean stared at him. “Good. Great. Yeah, sure, Cas,” he stammered. 

“Are you okay, Dean?” 

“Fine,” Dean said. He flashed Castiel a quick smile. “So, which flowers are those?” 

Dean barely heard what the florist- Castiel, Cas, he had found out his name was one of the last times he had stopped- as saying. All he could make sense of was a single thought: 

_He liked Castiel Novak._

It had hit him when Cas had asked what he was there for. He liked the guy, and much more than a friend.

He wasn’t sure how it had happened. Wasn’t sure if he had liked him since he’d wandered into his shop looking for a “fuck you” bouquet and seen those beautiful, vast blue eyes, or when he had decided to come back, or when he kept coming back, or when Cas smiled at him for the first time, or-

  
_Holy shit, he liked Castiel Novak._

  
Did Cas like him back? Was he straight? Was Dean his type? Hell, did he have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?

Dean stopped himself there and tried to force himself to listen to what the florist was saying. He was turning into a teenage girl.

“-mainly bloom in the spring, so these will start to get more common soon. A lot of these will, except for the fall and summer ones, up until mid June and early July.” Cas trimmed the stem ends, then glanced back, seeming concerned, to Dean. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Just was a long day at work,” he offered. 

“Aren’t you off today?” Cas looked at him carefully.

“Yesterday- not yesterday- uh, Wednesday was long,” Dean said unconvincingly. His eyes flitted to Cas’ lips.

After Cas asked if he was sick and needed someone to drive him home, Dean left quickly, fortunately alone. 

_He liked Castiel Novak._

The same words raced through his mind, over and over. His thoughts were a broken record as he drove through Sioux Falls back to his apartment. 

_He liked Castiel Novak._

Dean headed straight to his bed and collapsed on it. He laid there for a while, the four words on loop, until his phone buzzed. Sam. 

They talked for a while, but Dean couldn’t focus.

“Dean? You still there?” 

Dean gave a start. “Yeah, Sammy. What was that?” 

“I was just wondering if you’re okay. You’ve been a bit-” Sam fished around for the right word “-off today. Maybe since Lisa left you. Actually, maybe even a few weeks before that.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Dean said. 

“Really.” Sam sounded skeptical,

“Really,” Dean assured him. “So, er, how’d your date with Jess go? Are you shopping for rings yet?”

“You’re changing the subject,” Sam said. 

“Are you going to answer my question?”

Sam huffed. “Fine. The date went well, and no, I’m not shopping for rings. We’ve been dating for a few weeks, Dean.”

“Come on, Sammy-“

“It’s Sam,” Sam interrupted.

“-that’s plenty of time!”

“You and Lisa were together for months, and you didn’t go ring shopping for her,” Sam pointed out. “And I still don’t believe that she dumped you over not having a nice enough dinner.”

“Well, she did,” Dean said hurriedly. 

“That doesn’t sound like her, though,” Sam said. 

“Well, it was. Anything else you wanted to tell me about, or are you just going to keep trying to get me to tell you the real reason Lisa broke up with me?” Dean realized his mistake too late. “Shit.”

  
“So you were lying about dinner,” Sam said triumphantly. 

“Anything else you wanted to tell me?” Dean said forcefully.

“Yeah, but you know that you can talk to me, Dean. Right? I’m your brother. So if you need to talk-“

“I get the memo, Sammy,” Dean grumbled, then tried again to change the conversation. “What was the other thing?”

“We’re getting off early for the summer break. I was hoping that maybe I could crash at your place for a while? I know you don’t have a spare bedroom, but I can sleep on the couch, and it would only be for a few weeks, since Jess wanted me to come up and see her, and I can always-“

Dean grinned. “‘Course you can come. Actually, Bobby was asking about when you’d be back here a few weeks ago.”

“Thanks. I don’t think I’ve seen Bobby since I left in August,” Sam said. 

“You haven’t seen me since then, either,” Dean reminded him. 

Sam rolled his eyes- or at least, Dean assumed that he did- and said, “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Anytime.”

The call ended five minutes later, leaving Dean with his jumble of thoughts. There were three main ones, though. 

One, Sam was coming in just a few months. After nothing but phone calls for the past six months, it would be great to see his little brother again, in person. 

Two, Sam didn’t know Dean was bi. Which was why he was avoiding talking about Lisa, and why she had broken up with him. He hated lying to Sam, but Sam didn’t know, and Dean wanted to keep it that way. For now, at least. It wasn’t that Sam was homophobic, or that Dean had a problem with himself because of it (even without internalized homophobia, Dean had more problems with himself than he could count), more so that he just wasn’t ready. He wanted to hold onto their relationship how it had always been for just a little bit longer.

Three, Cas. The florist. The man with beautiful blue eyes, a timid but bright smile, soft-looking sweaters, and in possession of Dean’s heart. 

His head full, Dean thought, about Sam, but mainly the florist. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the support! It really means a lot.

Castiel wasn’t sure what to make of Dean’s behavior the last time he had been in the shop. It was almost as though he had been flustered. Almost like he’d had a crush. On Castiel. 

  
Castiel shook his head. That had to be wistful thinking on his part. 

“Well, Cassie,” Gabriel said cheerfully as they closed up shop, “I think someone is interested in you.”

So maybe it wasn’t wistful thinking. He smiled. “That doesn’t mean I’m stalking him,” Castiel told him. 

Gabriel shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, then shot Castiel a wink. “I’ll bet, though, that Dean-o there will ask you out next time he stops.”

Dean didn’t. He didn’t the time after that, nor the time after that. When he came, he greeted Castiel like a friend, talked with him about his day or Sam or something else, bought flowers, and left. 

Castiel wanted to ask Dean what had happened the day he had come to see him and get flowers. But what if it ruined the relationship they already had? He couldn’t- wouldn’t- jeopardize that.

So when Dean came in the middle of March, surprisingly not on a Friday, he was prepared to enjoy what little bit he had of Dean. He was not prepared for his request.

Dean had smiled at him almost nervously. “Hi. I was wondering if you could throw together a bouquet that translates to ‘are you interested in me?’ Romantically, I mean.”

Castiel had smiled back weakly, nodding quickly. “Yes, of course. There isn’t a perfect translation for that, but I think lilac, blue iris, and red gerbera daisies should work….” 

“And, er, what do those mean?” 

“Lilac is for romantic interest. The daisies can be loosely interpreted as a desire for a relationship, and the blue irises are for hope.” 

“Great,” Dean said. He looked around the shop distractedly. 

“You’ve found someone, then?” Castiel asked. He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

It seemed that he hadn’t, because Dean’s response was a bit hesitant. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I have. I think you’ll like him. You okay, Cas?”

Castiel tried for another smile. “I’m fine, Dean.” The last thing he wanted to do was talk about the guy Dean wanted to go out with, so he changed the subject. “How is your work going?” 

“Good, really good,” Dean said. “I got to work on a Talbot Lago Grand Sport, one of the luxury ones.” 

His eyes had lit up the way he did when he talked about cars. Bright, slightly widened, and excited. 

Castiel loved it when his eyes lit up like that. Even if it meant he had to work twice as hard to keep from leaning over and kissing him.

“She had gotten into a crash, needed to be hammered out,” Dean continued. “Beautiful car. I wish you could have seen her.”

Despite himself, he smiled. “Well, if she holds so high in your esteem, I’ll certainly be on the lookout for her on the road.”

“You should,” Dean said. “She’s one of the nicest cars I’ve seen. Besides Baby, of course. But other than the Talbot, no overly impressive cars.” 

Castiel trimmed the ends of the flowers, then began wrapping them. “How about the guys and Charlie?”

“Bobby’s already getting applications for summer. Usually that doesn’t happen until April or May, so he’s got that going on. Kevin won’t shut up about his big test coming up, he keeps listing all the bones in the body, it’s pretty freaking annoying. Charlie is good, she’s been going steady with her girlfriend for six months soon, she’s getting us to help her plan something for then. They’re both geeks, so she’s thinking they’ll do dinner and a movie- A New Hope is going to be at the theater that day.”

  
“Is that one of the Star Wars movies?” Castiel asked. 

“Yeah- wait. You don’t know Star Wars?” Dean said incredulously. 

“I’ve never seen it,” Castiel said mildly, passing Dean the bouquet. 

“Seriously? It’s a classic! You’ve never seen it?” At the shake of Castiel’s head, he decided, “We’ll have to fix that.”

  
“Well, good luck getting me to sit through all two hours of that thing.”

“That  _ thing _ ?” Dean said. “It’s a work of art! What, you think there are better movies?”

“Yes, I do, as a matter of fact” Castiel said. “Gone With the Wind, for one. Or Titanic. Dirty Dancing.”

“Historical romances?” Dean snorted. “You kidding?”

“They’re very good, though I don’t think Dirty Dancing is overly historical,” Castiel said, almost defensively. “And I watch other things that aren’t just historical. I just find the historical ones more interesting.”

Dean threw his hands up. “Not sure what’s interesting about a sinking ship and two lovebirds, but hey, your call.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “You’ve never seen it before, have you?” 

“Nope.” Dean grinned. “But tell you what: if you see Star Wars, I’ll watch Titanic.”

“You might have yourself a deal.”

Dean opened his mouth, probably to gloat.

“Might,” Castiel reemphasized. 

“Alright, alright. Well, how about you shoot me the price, and then I can get to planning our date?” Dean cleared his throat. “Not like a date-date, but like a- you know what I mean, right?”

“Right,” Castiel said somberly. When Dean had said date, there had been a glimmer of hope, but his rambling afterwards had crushed that. 

When Dean left, bouquet in hand, Castiel let his friendly smile fall. Dean Winchester had found someone else. 

Dean had left the flower shop only ten minutes before his shift was set to start. That was his first mistake. His second was taking the route to Bobby’s Auto that he always took- usually it was the fastest way, but there had been an accident that day- so he was stuck in traffic long enough to be late. 

He pulled into the parking lot in the back. The bouquet was going to have to sit in the car through his shift. There hadn’t been enough time to drop it off at his place. That had been the plan, until he had begun second guessing whether or not he should go through with his plan. By the time Dean had decided that yes, he was going to put said plan into action, he had less than twenty minutes before his shift. 

He regretted the second mistake. The first was a different story. Even as Bobby scolded him for not making it to work on time, Dean couldn’t feel sorry that he had gone to the flower shop. After all, he had gotten to see Cas. 

He headed out into the garage, where a handful of cars were parked and awaiting repairs. Most were dull blacks, greys, and whites, or sandy brown. A few were brighter shades of red or navy. 

Dean briefly wondered what color car Cas drove. More important than that, what kind? He seemed like the kind of person who would want an older car- not one of those newfangled ones with a GPS or anything. Just a simple frame of metal with wheels, gears, and a key. 

That wasn’t the only thing he was curious about. With any luck, though, the bouquet would help remedy that. Not that they didn’t talk already. But still. There was a lot that went unsaid when they spoke fleetingly at the flower shop.

“Hey, Dean. Would you mind helping me with this engine?” 

Dean was startled out of his thoughts. He looked to Kevin blankly. “What?”

“The engine is hydrolocked,” Kevin said. “Would you help me out with it?” 

“Yeah.” Dean headed over to the car Kevin was working on, a run down blue Volkswagen. “You ever fixed a hydrolocked engine before?” 

Kevin shook his head. 

“I’ll show you. Here, pass me the box.” 

Over two hours later, the engine had been fixed. It probably could have been fixed in less than that since it wasn’t severe, but Kevin was distracted. 

“Makeups for midterms are Monday. I need to study when I get home,” he had muttered as Dean fished around in the toolbox. “Then I’ve got to practice, and I said I would help Mom with dinner-“

Dean had grabbed the pliers from Kevin’s hand. “Look, I know you’ve got your important test coming up,” he said, “but you’ve got to stop worrying about it. You’ll do fine.” 

“This test could make or break my career,” Kevin said. “If I want to get into a good college, all my grades, essays,  _ everything _ has to be perfect. I-“

“If you’re that worried about it, why don’t you just talk to Bobby and clock off early? Get some extra studying in. Not that you need it.” 

“Maybe I should. Then I could get an extra few hours of studying in. Can you finish up the car?” 

Dean had nodded. “Not a problem.”

“Thanks, Dean.” Kevin made towards Bobby’s office.

“Don’t forget to sleep,” Dean had called after him, then turned back to the engine. Without anyone to talk to, his thoughts turned to Cas.

When the Volkswagen was fixed, he moved on to another car- this one a beige Triumph Stag. 

By the time his shift had ended four hours later, Dean had gone over his plan at least forty times, tweaking it and reviewing it again and again. He had also managed to screw up an oil change and break a screwdriver, but he was too distracted to care. 

Dean quickly cleaned up the area around the car he had been working on, stuffing his tools and now broken screwdriver into his toolbox, which he tucked under a tool bench that sat on one side of the garage, then poked his head into Bobby’s office. 

“I’m heading out, Bobby. The Volkswagen, Stag, and those Chevys can be picked up,” Dean told him. 

“Alright. I’ll call them in,” Bobby said. “Don’t be late tomorrow, Dean.”

“I’ll come in a half hour before,” Dean assured him. “Can’t be late if I’m early, right?”

At half past five, the Impala pulled out of the parking lot, and Dean made his way back to the flower shop. 

He parked on the dark street, then glanced at the bouquet. It didn’t look too bad for having been left in the car all afternoon. The flowers weren’t in as pristine condition as they had been when he picked them up, but they weren’t wilting. 

  
Dean glanced at the car’s clock. The shop would officially close in fourteen minutes. It would probably take another few to get it locked up. Then the florist would emerge, and Dean would set his plan into action. 

Step 1: Figure out where Castiel Novak lives. This would involve following him, which Dean reassured himself, was  _ not _ weird or creepy. And it was  _ not  _ stalking. Just… following. After following him, Dean would find out where the florist lived, then head home and let some time elapse before carrying out Step 2.

Step 2: Deliver the flowers. Then, depending on how Cas took it, execute Step 3.

Step 3: Ask him out. If he wasn’t interested… well, Dean was just going to hope that he was. He hadn’t been biphobic or anything. While that wasn’t a guarantee that he was interested, it wasn’t a guarantee that he wasn’t. 

Dean went over the plan again. Step 1, follow him. Step 2, deliver flowers. Step 3, ask him out. It was practically foolproof. 

What could go wrong?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to be playing around with the formatting for this story, so if stuff looks weird, that’s why.  
> Edit, 11/8- this chapter has been updated, so if you read it as it was first published, it has now changed.

When Castiel closed up his shop to head home, he had no idea that he was being followed. He walked home as he always did in the colder months- long trench coat buttoned up against the wind and hands in his pockets. When the wind wasn’t so intent on nipping, he might take his time, but in the midst of the March chill he was eager to get home to the warmth of his apartment.

  
The building was very plain, being nothing but brick, balconies, doors, and some windows. The hallways inside were the same. Only when you got inside the rooms did things change from dull scenery to individual decor. 

Castiel’s apartment was on the second floor. It was relatively simple- a kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a room large enough for a sofa and television. Nothing extravagant, not unlike his shop. Its individualism wasn’t defined by the simple furniture or pictures on the walls, but by the potted plants that were thrown everywhere. On the table, on the floor, on the counter, on the windowsill, on the shelves. Everywhere. Despite being surrounded by flowers all day for work, Castiel didn’t mind them in his apartment. 

He didn’t bother with hanging his trench coat on the hook by the door, stopping inside only to grab his keys. 

Castiel closed the door behind him and turned to leave. Walking down the narrow hallway, he bumped into some guy wearing sunglasses, and offered a hurried apology, not really taking any notice of who he had run into. 

When he had reached the curb and had climbed into his beat up Lincoln, he turned the key and the car sputtered to life.

Castiel drove. Highway to Hell blared over the radio. He changed the station. Elvis. The last thing Cas wanted to listen to right now was music about love or classic rock or anything that reminded him of Dean. 

They hadn’t even been in a relationship. So then why did it feel like he had been betrayed? Or like his heart had been broken? Rationally, Castiel knew he was overreacting. (That didn’t stop him from turning off the radio moments later.)

Half an hour later, he was thanking Jody Mills for letting him into the Minnehaha County Detention Center, even though visiting hours had ended ten minutes ago. 

“As long as you get your brother to bring in some of his bakery sometime soon- the real stuff, not those brown ‘e’s that he likes to trick us with- it’s no problem,” Jody said, waving him off. She opened the door to the cold, beige visiting room. “You’ve got ten minutes.” 

Castiel took a seat on one of the hard chairs and picked up the phone. “Hello, Meg.” 

Meg smirked at him through the glass. 

“Hey, Clarence. Busy watering plants?” 

“Something like that,” Castiel said, smiling a little. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know. The usual. Still locked up for helping out that dick.”

“I told you-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Azazel is a bad influence. You’ve mentioned that.”

It was good to see Meg. They had been friends since childhood. Seeing as that was the case, Meg was able to pick up on Castiel’s slightly muted mood. 

“What happened?” she asked. “Someone break your heart?”

“No.” Castiel didn’t meet her eyes. 

“Come on, tell me what happened. I need some gossip, nothing happens in here. And anyway, when I get out, I gotta know who to kill,” Meg said. 

“You’re in prison, you probably shouldn’t me talking about murder,” Castiel said, deadpan.

“The things I do for my friends,” Meg said dryly. “Spill.”

And that was how Castiel ended up talking about Dean. 

Meg didn’t seem to care for Dean much. She seemed to be torn between exasperation (“His eyes are green, Clarence, I get the picture.”) and amusement (“You told him you’d watch Star Wars with him? Hmph. You’re so far gone.”). 

In the end, she said, “Well, if I get out anytime soon-“

The door opened behind Cas. 

“You’ve gotta get going, Novak,” Jody said, poking her head in. “I have to kick you out.”

“Just give me a call,” Meg said, winking at Castiel. 

Castiel gave her a look. “Goodbye, Meg,” he said, then hung up the phone. 

“Later.” Meg smirked at Cas’ retreating back. 

Castiel thanked Jody again before he left, headed back home. 

When he was back at his apartment, the main thing on Castiel’s mind was food. He checked the fridge for leftovers, finding nothing. The freezer had only frozen pizza. 

Castiel sighed. This would be the third night in a row that he had had pizza. 

He preheated the oven, then went to tend to his plants. Dead flies for the venus fly trap, water for the aloe, asters, dahlias, yucca, and lilacs. 

The lilacs reminded him of Dean. 

Dean, who had come in, first asking for a “fuck you” bouquet for his ex-girlfriend, then one for a question of interest, and a half dozen in between. Dean, with his evergreen eyes that lit up when he talked about cars, and lips that were torture to look at without kissing. Dean, for whom Cas was harboring a huge crush on. Dean, who had found someone who wasn’t Castiel.

  
Cas found himself hoping that whoever Dean was planning to send that bouquet to would say no. 

The oven gave a ding, and Castiel hurried to put the pizza into the oven.

He had just sat down to eat when there was a knock on the door. 

Castiel looked mournfully at his pizza, then stood and made his way to the door. He looked through the peephole and saw no one. Probably Gabriel, he guessed. The last time there had been a knock at his door that was unaccompanied by a person, there had been a box sitting outside. When he opened it, there had been a disgruntled garter snake inside. The next day, he had gone to work only to have Gabriel cheerfully ask, “Did you like your package?” 

Cautiously, he opened the door. 

He could hear retreating footsteps around the corner. 

Definitely Gabriel, he thought. 

Castiel looked down, expecting to find a box likely filled with Grabriel’s version of a joke. Instead he found….

It took a minute to register what it was. A bouquet. 

A bouquet of lilac, blue iris, and red gerbera daisies. 

_ Dean’s  _ bouquet. 

Castiel picked it up, staring at it. Had Dean really-?

No. It might not even be from him. It could just be a coincidence. If Dean had been wondering if he was interested, wouldn’t he have stayed at the door? 

But who else would send him a bouquet of lilac, blue iris, and red gerbera daisies? Cas remembered tucking each of these flowers into their places. Dean had been the only one to buy that bouquet today. So maybe it was him. 

There were other flower shops in town, though. Really, it could have been anyone. Just because Dean had been the only one to buy that bouquet in his shop meant very little. 

But it could be from him. There was the slimmest chance that it could be from Dean. 

He was about to go back inside and let himself hope when he saw that there was something else by his door- a half sheet of paper that must have been under the bouquet. 

Castiel picked it up, and headed inside, shutting the door behind him. 

_ Hi. I’m guessing you know what the bouquet means since you’re almost fluent in flower. So how about an answer? Sooner I get one, sooner you get to watch Star Wars. _

_ \- Dean _

__

He grinned as he read it. 

  
Dean Winchester had just asked him out.

Dean probably should have left his address in the note. Or his number. Despite having revised his plan dozens of times, he really hadn’t thought it through. 

Oh, well. Too late to revise it. 

All he could do now was hope that he had delivered it to the right door, and that the florist would give him an answer. Preferably an affirmative one.

Dean glanced at the clock on his apartment wall. Twenty minutes ago, he had been sprinting down the hallway of the florist’s apartment, delivering a bouquet. Fifteen minutes ago, he had been driving home. And now, he was on the phone with Sam, trying to pay attention to what his brother was saying instead of agonizing over how he should have left the florist with his number. 

Evidently, he wasn’t doing a very good job of it, because Sam asked him if he was okay multiple times. The third time Dean told him he was fine, Sam called bull.

“You’ve been really, I don’t know, distracted since February,” he said irritably. “You only half pay attention when we’re talking, you won’t tell me why Lisa actually broke up with you, and every time I ask if you’re okay, you lie about that too. So honestly, Dean. What is up with you?”

He should tell Sam. Explain, be honest about it all.

_ Well, Sammy, I’m actually bisexual. Lisa, being the homophobic beach she is, didn’t appreciate that. So, I did the reasonable thing and got her a “fuck you” bouquet. Then I ended up with a huge crush on the florist who sold me the “fuck you” bouquet, and I just asked him out via flower less than an hour ago. Does that clear everything up for you? _

  
Dean knew he would have to tell his brother eventually. But he just wasn’t ready. Not yet. That didn’t mean he was any more comfortable lying to Sam, though. He hated it. 

So, he did the most honest thing he could bring himself to do:

“Look, it’s really not important why Lisa dumped me. I’ve moved on,” Dean said, choosing his words carefully. “I’m actually interested in someone, so I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask hi- them out without freaking them out, alright? I’ve just been master planning.”

“Right,” Sam said suspiciously.

“Right,” Dean said, as convincingly as he could. “Actually, I asked them out today.” 

“You did?” Sam sounded less suspicious. 

“Yeah.”

“How did it go?” 

“I’m not sure yet.” 

“What do you mean, you’re not sure yet?”

“Well, I sent Cas flowers. H- they’re a florist, fluent in flower and all that.” It hit Dean how much he was saying “they” and “they’re.” He wasn’t a religious person, but he sent up a quick prayer that Sam hadn’t noticed his abundant use of gender neutral pronouns.

It seemed he hadn’t; he was solely focused on the fact that Dean had potentially found someone. The interrogatory edge had disappeared from his voice completely. In fact, he gave a bark of laughter. “You’ve had me worried about you when you’ve just been crushing on someone like a teenage girl?”

“Shut up,” Dean told him.

“No, but really, that’s great, Dean. Is Cas short for something? Like Cassie?” 

Technically, it was short for Castiel, but Dean had overheard Gabriel using Cassie as a nickname before, so he figured it wasn’t really a lie. Not a big one, at least.

“Yeah. He- they’re pretty awesome. Never seen Star Wars, though. Too busy watching shit like Titanic.”

  
“She’s never seen Star Wars?” Sam snorted. “You’ll have her watch the entire saga in a week, won’t you?”

  
“You know me, Sammy,” Dean said lightly. “Just doing my duty as a Jedi Master. Someone has to teach the Younglings.”

Dean managed to keep himself focused for the rest of the call, and seemed to have, for the time being, placated Sam. 

It wasn’t a permanent solution, though. One way or another, it would come out. Eventually, Sam would know. 

Not now, though. Dean tried to content himself with that thought. For now, things could continue how they’d always been between them. 

Even without Sam knowing then, Dean still felt uneasy. The truth would come out, and they’d both have to face it. Dean just hoped- hell, prayed- that Sam wouldn’t hate him for it. He couldn’t take that. 

Dean glanced at the clock. Seventy three minutes ago, he had been in the Impala, driving off from the florist’s, wondering how Cas would react. 

He resumed the wondering. It wasn’t much better agonizing over whether Castiel Novak would go out with him, over worrying about the conversation he would have to have with Sam in time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to whoever’s number that is. I swear I’m not targeting you, I just wanted in to spell “assbutt.” Please don’t sue me or anything.

“So he asked you out? Looks like you don’t need my help. Congrats, little bro.” Gabriel was enjoying a bright red sucker while Castiel took note of their inventory and relayed the events of the previous night.   


  
“He didn’t leave me with a number, or address,” Castiel said, counting the hyacinths. 

“Huh. Speaking of addresses, you’re not worried at all that he just happened to know your address without asking?” 

Castiel sighed. “He probably asked someone.”

“Well, it wasn’t me. I’m pretty sure he’s stalking you.”

“Dean is not stalking me.” 

“He is, for sure,” Gabriel said. 

“Gabriel-“

“Ask him when he comes back to the shop. Ten bucks says that he did.”

“I’ll take you up on that. But what if he doesn’t? Come back to the shop, I mean?” 

“He said he was a mechanic, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Are we out of lillies?”

“I think so. Anyway, there are only a few mechanic places in town, so get in an accident, and go to one of them, and hope he’s there. Then, after he finishes fixing your car, you can follow him home-“

“I’m not stalking him,” interrupted Castiel. “Or getting into a car crash hoping that I get my car fixed by him.” He glanced at the clock. “Can you help me restock? We have ten minutes until we open.”

The next ten minutes were spent trimming, restocking, arranging, and coming up with legal, non creepy ways to get an answer to Dean. 

By the time the “come in, we’re open!” sign had been put up, Castiel had shot down most of Gabriel’s suggestions, including but not limited to stalking, kidnapping, getting in a car crash, and slashing his tires. There was one decent suggestion Gabriel had given him; asking for an address or phone number under the pretense of flower delivery. It was the most legal thing he had come up with that didn’t involve wrecking his car. 

In order for that to work, Dean would have to come back to the flower shop. Castiel wasn’t sure when the next time that would be. 

The morning was slow. A handful of customers came and went. The sun had arked far past its zenith, and the sky was turning to an orange and purple ombré before the bell rang, and Dean walked in. 

“Hi,” he said. Dean seemed extremely nervous, or self conscious. What Dean had to be self conscious about, Castiel wasn’t sure. Between the way he smiled, the way the light caught his eyes, and everything else about him, Dean was practically perfect. 

“You take care of this guy, Cassie,” Gabriel said with a wink. “I’m just going to take care of some stuff in the back.” He vanished into the back room, leaving Castiel alone with Dean. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greeted him. “How are you?” 

“Good,” Dean said quickly. “Really good. You?”

“I’m doing very good as well.” 

Castiel looked at Dean carefully, committing the details of his face to memory, not for the first time. The green eyes, the amber hair, the soft lips. Freckles dotted his face like stars, Cas noticed. How had he not seen that before?

He stared for a few moments before realizing that he was staring. 

“So,” Castiel said awkwardly, “what are you here for?”

“I was thinking that, uh, you could choose?” Dean said, giving him a small, quick grin. 

“Yes, of course.” Castiel began bustling around, grabbing flowers from various containers. “How did your bouquet work? Did you ask the guy out?” 

“I, er, I did.” Castiel could feel Dean’s eyes on him as he trimmed the stems of a few scarlet ipomoeas. “I don’t have an answer yet, though.” 

“I’m sure you’ll get one soon.” He began to arrange the bouquet, sticking small stalks of Jerusalem oak amongst the colorful blooms. 

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Dean said.

Castiel grabbed a marker, and scribbled something on the inside of the wrapping, before wrapping the flowers. He passed the bouquet to Dean, fingers brushing each others’. “Here.”

“Thanks. How, uh, how much?”

Castiel gave him a small smile. “This one is free, Dean. I’ll see you around?” 

Dean stared at him for a moment before responding. “Yeah. Thanks again, Cas.” He left, and the bell above the door rang.

Castiel watched him go, the corners of his lips still turned upward.

“You didn’t ask for his number,” Gabriel noted. “I take it that you’re planning to slash your tires, then?”

“Gabriel-“

“Remember, only slash three of them, so that your insurance will cover it. Never four.”

“You can stop coming up with your absolutely crazy plans,” Castiel told him. “Dean has my number. He’ll get back to me, and without me having to replace my tires.”

Dean was guessing that Cas had responded to him via flower, the way he had asked him out. That would be great, if he knew what all those flowers meant. 

Fortunately, it was a Thursday, which meant he didn't have to work, and had all the time in the world to google what all those flowers were. Lucky for him, he didn’t have to. 

When he went to unwrap the flowers and stick them into a vase he had gotten, there was a note written in black marker on the inside of the wrapping. 

_ jerusalem oak and ambrosia; your feelings are reciprocated. _

__

_ scarlet ipomoea; attachment. _

__

_ coral rose; desire. _

__

_ yellow lily; i’m walking on air, gaiety. _

__

_ white violet; let’s take a chance. _

_   
(605) 277 - 2888 _

Dean grinned. 

Cas had said yes.

He was going out with Castiel Novak. 

Dean couldn’t believe that he had said yes. 

He couldn’t stop grinning, even the next morning as he headed to work. Couldn’t stop while he worked on a crappy Honda and got grease sprayed all over his clothes. 

“Whatever you’re on, I need it,” Kevin said halfway through the day. 

Dean laughed. “I’m not on anything,” he said cheerfully. 

“Well, Goofy, you’re never this happy,” Charlie mused. “Kevin’s got a point. You’re definitely high.”

“I’m  _ not _ high.” Dean insisted, trying to stop smiling. It didn’t work. 

Charlie and Kevin looked at each other, unconvinced. 

“If I was high, I’d share, okay?” Dean said. 

“Tran in there is underage, you’d better not get him hooked on anything!” Bobby called from the other room. 

“I said ‘if,’ Bobby! Anyway,” Dean continued, “I’m not. So stop asking.”

Kevin opened his mouth to keep asking. 

Dean turned to Charlie. “What’s your plan with Gilda for next week?” 

“They loaded her with an extra shift at the hospital,” Charlie said. “She’s not going to be able to celebrate on our anniversary. We’re holding off a week. I’ve still got the tickets, though.”

“That sucks,” Dean said. After a moment he added, “You planning to do anything with those tickets?”

“You want them?” Charlie offered. 

“I’ll pay you back,” Dean told her. 

  
“I still owe you for picking up my shift in August so I could join Gilda to LARP. After you have your movie night with some girl, then we’re even.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

He knew exactly what he was going to do with those two tickets.

The grin stayed plastered on his face long after his shift had ended. 

Dean drove home, blasting Led Zeppelin, and in an impossibly good mood. He was going out with Cas, he had a great plan for their first date, the sun hadn’t set yet, and traffic was minimal. Things couldn’t get much better. 

The first thing he did when he got home was order takeout. Food was important. 

The second thing was text Cas. He had stared at his phone stupidly for a few minutes before typing out:

_ Hi, this is Dean _

__

_ How are things going? _

How are things going. Wow. He was sure Cas was swooning over his romantic texting skills. 

Cas probably hadn’t even seen the message, the shop was still open and he’d be working the counter. He was surprised when he got a reply not ten minutes later. 

__

_ Hello, Dean.  _

__

_ Things are going well. The shop is pretty quiet. Gabriel is taking care of the counter right now. _

Dean had never been nervous when he texted, but messaging with Cas had to be the exception. This was the perfect spot to ask. Just a simple, “you doing anything on Saturday night?” But was it too forward? Dean hadn’t really been in a lot of real relationships. He didn’t know how to do this sort of thing. Mainly, he would just pick a chick up at a bar, they’d spend the night together, and that would be all. Sure, there had been Lisa, and Robin before her, but that was it. 

He should just do it. Type it out, hit send, and let Cas respond. Yeah. That was how texting with people worked, right?

Dean messaged back quickly, before he could lose his nerve.

__

_ Next Saturday night, you up for remedying your lack of Star Wars knowledge?  _

__

_ If you’re available, I mean _

A little bubble appeared to show Cas was typing. 

_ Potentially. _

__

_ So long as you’re still willing to watch Titanic. _

Dean sighed. He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to watch Titanic.

_ I guess sacrifices have to be made _

Cas replied right away. 

__

_ Yes, they do.  _

__

_ What time? _

Dean fumbled for the tickets. He hadn’t looked at that.

_ Want me to pick you up at 6:30? We’ll have time to grab some dinner before the movie that way _

Cas’ response was affirmative. A moment paused before another message came through from him.

_ I need to go back up front to help out. Talk to you later? _

__

The reply was easy that time.

_ Sure thing, Cas _


	7. Chapter 7

The week had passed slowly as Castiel waited for Saturday night. When it finally came, it felt surreal, like a dream. 

  
He couldn’t believe that he was going out on a date with Dean. It seemed almost too good to be true. 

It was true, though- at six thirty, Saturday night, there was a knock on the door of his apartment. 

Castiel hurried to the door and threw it open. 

Dean stood there, grinning nervously. “Hey,” he said. 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel felt almost overdressed, looking at Dean. His grey sweater seemed formal compared to Dean’s flannel and Star Wars t-shirt. “You’ve been very secretive about your plan for tonight. Except for our movie plans.”

“Everything else is still a secret ‘till we get there,” Dean said. “Ready?”

“Of course.” 

They headed outside, where Dean ushered Castiel to his car, the gleaming 1967 Chevy Impala he had talked to much about. 

“She’s even prettier in person, huh?” Dean declared proudly.

“It’s a nice car,” Castiel agreed. 

“She. Not it. Don’t insult her,” Dean scolded. He opened the passenger door. “Hop in.”

Castiel awkwardly clambered into the car. 

Dean shut the door for him, then got into the driver’s seat and started the Impala. 

“By the way,” Castiel said curiously, “how did you know where I live?”

“I, er…” Dean looked suddenly sheepish. “I might have, uh, followed you. Once.”

Castiel stared at him incredulously. “You followed me.”

“It was just the one time!” Dean said. 

“I can’t believe Gabriel was right,” Castiel muttered. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“What?” 

“Gabriel thought that you followed me. Usually, he’s not right about this type of thing, so we made a bet.” Castiel sighed. “Now I owe him ten dollars.”

“Sorry,” Dean said.

“Sorry for following me or for costing me ten dollars?”

“Costing you ten dollars.”

“Not for following me?” 

“Well, it meant that I got to ask you out, didn’t it?” Dean said cheekily.

“It did,” Castiel said with a small smile. 

“So, we’re good?” 

“That depends on how much I enjoy the movie tonight.”

“You’ll like it,” Dean promised. 

They drove for a few minutes in comfortable silence. Dean kept his eyes on the road, Castiel kept his eyes on Dean. 

This was the first time he had seen Dean drive. There was a carefree, focused glint in his eyes as they cruised down the road. He wasn’t quite smiling, but the corners of his mouth were just barely turned up, and Castiel could tell he was happy. 

He would be more than happy to drive all day with Dean if it meant he could see that look on his face.

Castiel wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that- Dean driving and Castiel watching him- before Dean broke the silence.

“You okay with burgers?” he asked. “Because there’s this really good place at the edge of town, the Roadhouse. I was thinking we could go there for something. I mean, unless you’d rather go somewhere else, or-“

“The Roadhouse sounds great,” Castiel assured him. 

“Alright, good,” Dean said, pulling over the Impala. “We’re here.” He hopped out of the car and hurried around to open the passenger door.

“Thank you,” Castiel said. 

Dean only grinned in response. 

“Welcome to the Roadhouse! How many- oh, hey, Dean.” The blonde woman smiled widely when she recognized Dean and dropped her professional manner.

“Hey, Jo. Table for two?”

“Sure thing.” Jo turned her eyes onto Castiel. “So is this the ‘Cas’ Sam has been going on about?” 

“You were talking with Sam?” There was a new, panicked edge to Dean’s voice.

“Yeah. He was worried about you for a while, until you told him it was because you had a crush,” Jo said offhandedly. She looked between Dean and Castiel. “He doesn’t know, does he.” 

“I… might have, uh, forgotten to… mention it.”

  
“I’m not going to say anything, Dean,” Jo said. “I’m not in the habit of outing people. So, table or booth?” 

Castiel and Dean found themselves sitting almost comfortably in a booth near the bar. There was too much tension in the air for them to be completely comfortable, though. 

“Sam, he, uh, he doesn’t know. About me liking guys, I mean,” Dean blurted out. “He’ll find out at some point, but, er-“

“You're not ready for him to know,” Castiel guessed.

Dean shook his head. “No. Not like he’s homophobic, but….” He trailed off.

“It was like that with me as well,” Castiel said. “It took me years to... pluck up enough courage to tell anyone.” 

Three years and five months, to be exact. From when Castiel had figured out he was gay, to the day Gabriel found out. Gabriel had been nothing but supportive. A few weeks later, he came out to his cousin Balthazar, who was just as supportive, if not as over enthusiastic as Gabriel. It had taken more than five years to say anything to the rest of his family because of fear, which was, as he found out, well founded. 

Sam, however, from what Dean had told him, was nothing like the Novaks who had cut him off. Castiel was sure that if Dean chose to tell Sam, Sam would be nothing but accepting. He understood the warriness and fear that came with the closet, though.

“I didn’t tell him you were a chick,” Dean told him. “But I didn’t say you were a guy either. He just assumed- you know.” He paused. “He thinks your name is Cassie,” Dean said, unable to keep the amused expression off his face.

Castiel laughed. 

Dean stared at him. “You’re not-“ He broke off. 

“Not what?”

“Nevermind,” Dean said quickly. “So, how about we talk about something less serious, huh?” 

“That sounds like a great idea,” Castiel agreed. “What qualifies as less serious?”

“Drinks,” Dean decided. “Nothing can be serious when it includes alcohol.” 

“Drinks it is, then.”

With drinks in hand, they had talked about all manner of things. Dean told Cas about the Halloween he had convinced Sam he could fly, which had led to an impromptu hospital visit, and the chaos that had ensued the time Charlie had convinced him to LARP with her. Cas told him about how as a kid Gabriel had once adopted a kitten and kept it a secret from their parents for half a year, and about a disastrous play he’d been in during elementary school, which had somehow ended with the school’s gym being completely filled with purple fog from the malfunctioning fog machine. They debated what the best kind of pie was, and whether apple pie should be served warm or at room temperature. Disagreed over the best movie genre. (Dean was positive that Cas would change his mind by the time the credits were rolling, though he didn’t say that.) Collectively decided that older cars were better. They only fell quiet when the food came.

“This is delicious,” Cas said once he’d eaten half of his burger. “We should come here again sometime. Maybe before you see Titanic.”

“Who said I was watching Titanic?” asked Dean.

“I believe we had made a deal,” said Cas. “One that involved me watching Star Wars, and you watching Titanic.”

“You don’t just want to watch Star Wars because it’s a good movie? You’d rather just watch it to make me watch a sappy love story?”

“I wouldn’t say Titanic is sappy,” Cas said matter-of-factly. “And anyway, I don’t see what’s so much better about the clone troopers on your t-shirt.”

Dean stared at Cas, scandalized. “Those are stormtroopers!” 

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

“No, but this movie is long overdue if you can’t tell the difference between clones and stormtroopers,” Dean grumbled good naturedly. 

Somehow, even after the burgers, they had room for popcorn at the theater. Probably because they shared it, which Dean was all too happy to do. Normally, he hoarded food, but with Cas, he didn’t mind. He tried blaming it on being full after dinner, but really it was because his and Cas’ hands brushed when they reached into the container at the same time. 

Dean only half watched the movie. He kept glancing at Cas, who was transfixed. 

Cas watching a movie was extremely adorable (not that he didn’t always look adorable, but with the light from the screen reflecting off his eyes and his mouth slightly open like that, it was taking all Dean’s self control to keep from kissing Castiel senseless). Dean would lean over and kiss him- god, did he want to do that- but Cas seemed to be enjoying the movie, and Dean didn’t want to interrupt that, and anyway, he wasn’t necessarily unhappy watching Cas watch a movie. 

By the time the theme was blaring over the credits, the popcorn was long gone, and they were making their way back to the Impala, Cas had decided, “It wasn’t awful.”

“‘Not awful?’ It’s a great movie!”

“Like I said, not awful. In fact,” Cas said, feigning thoughtfulness, “I might not be opposed to watching the next one.” He looked at Dean.

“Knew you’d like it!” Dean crowed triumphantly. “Now we’ll have to do another movie night. I mean, if you’d like to.” 

Cas gave him a small smile. “I think we will, since you have to watch Titanic.” 

Dean froze. “Shirt. Titanic?” Between watching the movie and watching Cas watch the movie, he had forgotten about that.

“It’s an excellent movie,” Cas assured him. 

“I’m going to need more than that to convince me,” Dean said as they reached Baby. 

“Popcorn?” 

“Bit more than that.” 

“Flowers?”

“I don’t know-“

“A kiss?” 

  
Dean couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “Now we’re talking. Now, do I get a sample? Or do I have to wait for that ship to sink?”

Cas’ eyes lit up. “I suppose a sample wouldn’t hurt.” He smiled, and took a step towards Dean. 

Dean leaned forward, and-

The kiss was short and tender, but passionate nonetheless. Their lips fit together perfectly, and when they broke apart, Dean wished it had gone on until they were both gasping for breath. That, or he wished he had gotten another.

He got his second wish when they got back to Cas’ apartment. 

“Thank you,” Cas said sincerely. “Tonight was… I enjoyed it.”

“Me too,” Dean said. He stumbled slightly over his next words. “I’d, uh, I’d like to take you out again, if, er, you wanted to.”

Castiel smiled almost shyly. “I don’t have anything after work next week Sunday.” 

“Great. I’ll text? Or call?” 

Cas answered him with another kiss.

It was longer than the last, Dean was happy to note. 

“Good night, Dean.” 

“Night, Cas.” 

The door of Cas’ apartment shut, leaving Dean standing in the hallway, grinning widely. 


	8. Interlude: Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is a lamp. Destiel is explored in the second act. All my hopes and dreams depend on 15x20. Don’t let us down, Dabb. Between the way everything has been set up, Jensen’s pannel from the other day, the insistence from everyone that Cas is dead, and all the 10x5/lamp stuff, I think we’re gonna get endgame!destiel. I’m still clowning.   
> This chapter is short. And maybe not all that accurate? A quick disclaimer, I’ve never been to a Pride. So, uh, if it’s really inaccurate, I’m sorry.   
> Best of luck to the rest of the spn family. Is anyone ready to hear Carry On Wayward Son for the last time? I’m not. A piece of advice: keep the tissues close. Or the alcohol, for of age people.

**Interlude: Pride**

  
  


  
Gabriel was a trickster. Everyone knew it. 

For some reason, Naomi still bought it when he said he was going to the library. 

“I expect you to be back by six,” his stepmother instructed briskly. “We’re eating as a family tonight. If you check anything out, show me when you get back. I want to make sure you’re not going to get anything blasphemous.” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Bring back a Bible. Can I go?” 

“Very well,” Naomi said. 

Gabriel practically ran out of the sitting room and to the garage. He tossed his backpack in the passenger seat of the Novaks’ car and pulled onto the street. He was out. 

Windows rolled down, Gabriel cruised through New Haven, his mood impossibly good. He was away from Naomi and Michael, it was summer, he was all stocked for the afternoon (both candy-wise and with attire), and, most importantly, he was free. 

  
The car went past a few streets that were being blocked off by police. Gabriel grinned; he wasn’t big on cops, but this afternoon was going to be a lot better if he didn’t get run over halfway through. 

A few minutes later, he slowed the car to a stop in front of an upscale brownstone. He hopped out of the car, slung his backpack over one shoulder, and climbed quickly up the front stairs. The door opened before he could knock. 

Loki had often been mistaken for Gabriel’s brother, though that wasn’t the case. They both had the same gold-auburn hair and permanently mischievous glint to their eyes, and were nearly the same height. (Gabriel was taller by two thirds of an inch, which he held over Loki’s head shamelessly.)

Loki grinned at him. “Gabriel.”

“Loki.” Gabriel grinned back. “Ready for later, shortbus?”

“I’ll be ready. And don’t call me shortbus.” He stepped to the side and let Gabriel in.

“Do you have the paint?” Gabriel checked. 

Loki snorted. “Of course. What, did you think I’d forget?” 

Gabriel shrugged. “It crossed my mind. Since, ya know, you’re practically ancient.”

“Seventeen isn’t ancient.” 

“Sure it’s not. Whatever makes you happy.” 

Loki rolled his eyes, and they made their way up the stairs to get ready. 

It was nearly two hours two hours later that they were ready to leave the brownstone, covered in bright paint and glitter. 

“This is going to be a bitch to get out,” Gabriel complained, combing a hand through his hair and bringing it away dusted in pink glitter. 

  
“Your fault for putting it in my hair first,” Loki smirked. His hair was also faintly pink and shimmery. 

  
“My hand slipped,” Gabriel said innocently. 

“Your hand slipped my ass.  _ My _ hand actually slipped,” Loki said in the same tone. 

They left the brownstone, walking back in the direction Gabriel had driven in from, towards the blocked off roads, where a large group of brightly dressed people were beginning to gather. 

Gabriel grinned openly. If Naomi or Michael knew where he was, he’d be disowned. 

Most everybody in the crowd was donning rainbow, or other colors from a more specific flag. Some people were carrying flags or signs. Nearly everyone seemed thrilled to be there. 

Of course they were. Pride month was only once a year. 

As Gabriel and Loki got closer, Gabriel began to survey the group. On the edge of the crowd, Crowley, the high school’s British forgein exchange student was visible, wearing far too many layers than seemed reasonable. Sleipnir, Loki’s cousin, could be seen weaving through the throes of people. Meg Masters, nextdoor neighbor, bitch extraordinaire, and his younger brother’s best friend, stood around the outskirts of the action, talking to- 

  
Gabriel did a double take.  _ Was that Castiel?  _

“Cassie!” he shouted excitedly. 

Castiel’s head snapped up and he paled, making the colorful face paint he had applied stand out in even more contrast to his skin. 

_ Yup, definitely Cassie.  _

  
Gabriel kicked himself internally. So  _ that _ was why he was always dodging Naomi’s questions about girls. Gabriel had just assumed his brother was too focused on school to want to take up dating, but if he wasn’t into girls, well, that wouldn’t go over too well at dinner. 

Castiel said something urgently to Meg, then tried to disappear into the crowd. Unfortunately for him, Gabriel got to him first. 

“You should have told me you were going to be here!” Gabriel scolded, thrilled. “We could have helped you get ready!”

“Are you kidding me?” Meg said grumpily. “We have to deal with you here too?”

Castiel looked over Gabriel almost nervously, taking in the glitter in his brother’s hair, the paint on his face, and the flag he had draped over his shoulders like a cape. 

“I, er, I didn’t realize that- uh-“ Castiel stumbled over his words. 

“That I was pan? Come on, little bro. I dress up as a heterosexual every year for Halloween!” Gabriel joked. 

Castiel gave a small smile. 

“Next year, I’m helping you get ready. Understood? I mean, we’ll have to do it at Loki’s or somewhere since Naomi, but...” 

“You… you don’t mind?” Castiel was still extremely nervous. 

Gabriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Look at where we are, kiddo. Would I be here if I had a problem with it?”

“Oh. Right.” He hesitated. “Why do you have glitter in your hair?” 

“Someone,” Gabriel said bitterly, turning around to face Loki, “dumped it in my hair.”

“You dumped it in my hair first,” Loki said. “And you got it all over my flag.” He was wearing his gender fluid flag similarly to Gabriel, only it sparkled in the sun, thanks to the glitter.

“Hey, Clarence, we’re getting ready to move,” Meg said. 

Sure enough, the crowd was beginning to shuffle forward. 

“Wanna walk with us?” Gabriel said. 

Castiel lit up. He turned to Meg. 

Meg sighed. “Fine. I’ll deal with your brother.” She glared at Gabriel. “Don’t think this means I like you.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” His excitement returned. “Come on!” 

  
“Thank you, Gabriel,” Castiel told him. 

“‘Course, Cassie.” Gabriel grinned. “Now let’s go, I’ve got candy for the end!” 

Gabriel skipped to the front of their group, but not before he caught a glimpse of Castiel’s smile.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone ready for Thursday? Haha, I’m not, so this is my coping device.  
> *throws chapter at you*

  
Castiel pressed a ten dollar bill into Gabriel’s hand the next time he saw his brother. 

“What’s this?” Gabriel asked, amused. “Did I win our bet? Or is this charity?” 

“Shut up,” Castiel muttered. 

“Remember, I’m always right.” Gabriel grinned. “This’ll buy me a few candy bars. Excellent. Thanks, little bro.”

Castiel glared at him, which only made Gabriel grin widen. 

“So, how did the rest of it go?” he asked. “Tell me everything. I need _details_. Did you make out in the back of the theater? On a scale from one to ten, how intense was your eye sex over dinner? When he drove you home, did he stay the night? How big is his-“

“ _Gabriel!_ ” Castiel admonished. “We had dinner, saw a movie, and that was all. And we don’t have eye sex.” 

“Of course you do.” Gabriel waved him off. “Did you kiss? Please tell me you at least kissed.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Yes, we kissed. Briefly.”

He remembered the first kiss they shared. Dean’s lips had been warm against Castiel’s. It had been revealing and intimate and passionate and _theirs_ , he’d never had anything quite like that. The second had been just like it, but more. 

Castiel could have kissed him forever. Next time he saw Dean, he decided, he would do that. 

Castiel’s wist must have shown, because Gabriel laughed. “Okay, lover boy. Let’s restock the flowers, unless you’d rather keep drooling over Dean-o.”

Castiel sighed, and made to help Gabriel. To be honest, he would rather keep thinking about Dean, but the shop opened in less than an hour, and there was plenty of restocking to do before then. 

“Well, while you were off going at it with Dean-“ 

Gabriel was cut off for a moment by Castiel’s protests. 

“Yes, you were, even if it was only with the eyes- anyway, Kali and I made up. I’m taking her out for breakfast on Friday, so I’m going to have to leave a bit early.”

“That sounds fine,” Castiel said. 

“No ‘congratulations?’ You wound me, Cassie.” Gabriel put a hand over his heart dramatically.

“You two have broken up and gotten back together more times than I’ve seen the Princess Bride, and I watch that every time I get sick,” Castiel told him. 

“You never get sick,” Gabriel said dismissively. “I could count the number of times you’ve had to stay home on one hand.” 

“Two hands,” Castiel corrected. “Four times during school, three since-“

“Whatever. Point being, you don’t watch the Princess Bride all the time, so your comment about me and Kali is irrelevant.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes, and continued to take inventory and restock flowers.

Monday was a long day for business. The shop wasn’t open quite as long on weekends, but when customers were scarce, the hours dragged by. The only things getting Castiel through the day were Gabriel’s ridiculous banter, and the knowledge that Dean would be calling or texting him eventually. 

Eventually turned out to be four o’clock on the dot. 

“You there, Cas?” 

It had been less than forty eight hours since Castiel had seen him, but nonetheless he was thrilled to hear Dean’s voice. 

“Hello, Dean. Aren’t you still at work?”

“Well, yeah, physically,” Dean said, “but technically my shift is over. Yours is too, right?”

“Yes, we just closed,” Castiel said, watching as Gabriel hung up a “sorry, we’re closed” sign. 

“Great. How was it?”

“Work?” 

  
“Yeah.”

“Not very eventful. It was a slow day. Yours?” 

“Pretty busy- Kevin has his test tomorrow, so he didn’t come in after school, and he won’t be in until Wednesday. Charlie took a day off. So it was just me and Bobby working the garage. We’re- hold on.”

There was a muffled voice on the other side of the line. 

“No, Bobby, I won’t forget to check the garage- yes, I’ll be in early tomorrow. Okay, anyway-“ Dean turned his attention back to Castiel. “I was-“ 

The muffled voice started talking again. 

Dean sighed. “No, I’m not talking to Sam. I’ll tell him you send your love, though.” He paused again. “Jesus, Bobby, can I just talk to Cas? Thanks. Alright, I’m back. So I know you said Sunday, but any chance that later this week, if you’ve got a slow day and you can get away from the shop, any chance that you would, uh, want to come by the garage around lunch and meet the guys? If you can’t or don’t want to, that’s fine, it was just, uh, just a thought.”

  
Castiel smiled. “I’ll see if I can get Gabriel to cover for me later this week.” 

“Great.” Dean sounded surprised, but Castiel could hear his grin over the line. “Great. Let me know when, alright? Just so I can let Bobby know. If you show up unannounced in the garage, he might think you’re an intruder and throw a wrench at you.”

“He does that?”

“Ash- that’s Jo’s brother, he’s in college now, he worked at the garage before he left- he showed up once on his day off without calling Bobby. He nearly got his eye gouged out with a screwdriver.”

“That sounds painful.”

“I’m sure it is, but how about we not find out?” 

“Yes, I think that would be best.”

It had been decided that Cas would be at Bobby’s Auto on Wednesday. Kevin would come during his open lunch and pick up pizza. Sunday, Dean would head to Cas’ apartment to watch Titanic.

Dean was most excited about Wednesday; the few times he had mentioned Cas, Charlie, Kevin, and Bobby (in his grumpy, stotic way) were all enthusiastic about meeting his new “friend.” He was equally excited for Cas to meet them. Sunday… he wasn’t thrilled about watching Titanic, but it meant more time with Cas, and Dean wasn’t complaining about that- far from it. He was more than happy to spend time with Cas- hell, he would spend the whole day doing calculus with the guy, which was one of the most boring classes he had ever taken. Somehow, Cas would make it interesting, the way he made everything. Worth it. 

  
There was a buzzing from Dean’s pocket. Sam. He answered.

“You know we just talked this morning, right, Sammy?”

“Yes, I’m aware that we talked this morning,” Sam said impatiently. “I just got off the phone with Jo.”

Dean’s stomach dropped. He froze.

Oh god. This couldn’t be happening. She had _promised_ . Jo had _fucking promised_ she wouldn’t tell Sam. He’d thought he could trust her. She had _fucking promised_. It was too late now, though. Too late to avoid the slurs that were bound to fall from his brother’s lips.

  
Dean braced himself. 

  
“Why didn’t you tell me you and Cassie went out on a date?” 

The words didn’t register for a moment.

Same continued less seriously, “When I asked you why you were in such a good mood, you told me ‘no reason!’ It was because you and her went out, wasn’t it?” 

Dean didn’t respond. He was in shock. 

“Dean? You there?” 

“Wha- yeah. Yeah. _Cassie_?”

“That was her name, right?” 

“Right.” 

_Cassie_ . _Her_ name. So Jo hadn’t told him. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Are you going to tell me how it went?” Sam prompted. “Or am I going to have to blackmail you?”

“It- uh, it was good. Great, actually. Cas liked A New Hope, even though h- they claimed it was just ‘not awful.’ Still agreed to watch the next one. I’m heading over to their place to watch Titanic later this week.” 

“Wow. You watching romance?” Sam laughed. “You’re serious about her, huh?” 

“Uh- maybe,” Dean said. 

  
The question caught him off guard. Was he serious about Cas? 

Of course he liked him and wanted to spend time with him. More than just that; Dean was usually bar then sex then exchange phone numbers kind of guy. He didn’t take it slow. With Cas, he was  _ okay  _ with taking it slow. Actually, he was more than okay with that. And that hadn’t happened before, not with Dean. Cas was different.

But a serious relationship? Move in with each other, maybe exchange vows, give himself up wholeheartedly? He let himself picture it for a moment;

  
A small house somewhere between the flower shop and garage, Baby parked in front. Probably a flowering garden, courtesy of Cas. The inside would likely be laden with botany as well. A comfortable living room, complete with a couch small enough that they would have to sit touching each other, and a full collection of Star Wars movies. Maybe some of those romances Cas liked. A shower just the right size for sharing. A bedroom perfect for time together. 

  
It was too good to be true, and anyway, Dean had only known Cas for a few weeks, even if it felt like longer. What were the odds that he’d get a white picket fence life with Castiel Novak? He wasn’t sure, and wasn’t sure how well he would take it if he let himself fantasize over one only to have Cas move on, or something get between the two of them.

But if it did happen…. Dean would throw himself into it wholeheartedly.

  
“That’s good, Dean. Really good.” Sam paused. “Shit. I’ve gotta go, there’s a party at Garth’s place in ten minutes.”

  
“Remember to enjoy yourself, but don’t get so drunk that you can’t walk in a straight line, got it? Because I’m not driving thirty hours to bust you out.”

Sam (at least, Dean assumed) rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to get drunk. And anyway, it’s only twenty six hours.”

“My point still stands. I’ve got work tomorrow.”

Work tomorrow, then Cas would be coming to the garage for lunch. He wasn’t going to miss that, unless Sam was on his deathbed. 

“See ya, Dean.”

“Don’t stay up past your bedtime!” Dean reminded him. 

“Jerk.” 

The line went dead. “Son of a-”

Sam had, he was sure, done that intentionally. 

Dean called him back and was sent to voicemail. He left his message. 

“Bitch.”

Dean hung up. There. His work on Sam’s voicemail was done.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, a quote for you all from my tumblr:  
> “this week’s episode has MAJOR destiel capabilities so HELL YES but at the same time ‘in case’ so HELL NO ya feel me  
> why did I even join this fandom there are too many feelings”

Cas had to keep reminding himself that lunch at the garage was not a big deal. It was just lunch with Dean- and the coworkers he spoke of nearly as highly as his brother. 

  
Gabriel did nothing to ease his nerves. “Remember,” he said, lecturing Castiel, “you use the forks starting from the outside in, and don’t start eating until after the host has. Never make direct eye contact with the patriarch of the household unless he’s talking to you. And speaking of looking at people, no eye sex with Dean-o at the dinner table.” 

  
“I- Dean- we don’t have eye sex!” Castiel protested, stumbling over his words slightly. 

“Someday, I’ll get a picture of you two doing it,” Gabriel promised. 

Castiel shook his head and went back to pre-arranging bouquets, trying not to worry. It was just lunch. 

The text from Dean had read ‘ _Come at 1 or so_.’ Castiel watched the clock behind the counter intently, only looking away when a customer came in, and even then he kept glancing up towards it. Whether it was because he was excited or anxious, he couldn’t tell. 

Quarter to, Castiel headed to the back room, pulled his tan trench coat over his sweater, and headed for the door. 

Gabriel looked up from the customer he was helping- an older black woman looking for flowers to gift to her granddaughter. “Bye, Cassie! Behave yourself!” he called after him. Gabriel turned back to the woman. “My little brother has a date- he’s meeting his lover’s family. They grow up so fast.” 

“They do,” the woman agreed. “It feels like only a few weeks ago that James was taking his first steps, and now thirty years later I’ve got a granddaughter who’s top of her class.” 

“Cassie was top of his class once, when he was in school. That was only a few years ago.” He sniffed dramatically.

Castiel sighed. Gabriel and his antics.

The bell above the door sounded as he left.

Castiel pulled his beat up Lincoln into the cramped back parking lot at Bobby’s Auto at exactly one o’clock. He got out of the car and looked around. So this was where Dean worked. 

The building looked a bit like an old gas station, only with a large garage attached, and an even larger parking lot next to it. That had to be where they kept the cars that would have to be worked on. On the opposite side of the place, where Castiel had parked, there were far less cars, none of which were sporting shattered windows or dented hoods. He could see Dean’s Impala parked a few spaces down from his car. That had to be the employees lot. 

Castiel made his way to the main door and pulled it open. He had been inside just long enough to take in the gray walls and the wooden chairs lining the room, when a young, redheaded woman behind the small front desk took notice of him and started talking excitedly. 

“Hi! You must be Castiel!” she said, grinning at him. 

“You must be Charlie,” Castiel guessed. 

Charlie grinned even wider. “Yup. So… Dean’s mentioned me?” 

“Quite a bit,” Castiel told her. She looked pleased. 

“Probably not as much as he’s mentioned you,” Charlie said. “He mentions you at least twice a day. Usually more. This morning more than usual. He’s been pining.” 

He was surprised at Charlie’s choice of words- Dean had said that no one at the garage had been told that they were together- but Castiel couldn’t help the way the corners of his lips twitched up. The knowledge that Dean missed him while he was at work filled him with an odd sort of warmth in his core.

“Come on, I’ll show you to the break room. Dean’s just finishing on an engine, but he’ll be down in a minute.” 

Charlie led him past an “employees only” sign and down a small set of stairs, then into a tiny room. It was very compact- there was a pool table in the center, around which were a number of chairs, a small refrigerator in one corner, a small television and a gaming system in another, and a dart board hanging on the far wall.

“We do a lot of game nights in the winter,” Charlie told him. “Usually we do Mario Kart or something. We used to do pool, but then Dean got too good and Kevin lost nearly three hundred bucks. Mama Tran almost killed him.”

_Dean was good at pool._ Cas filed away the little piece of information, added it to the picture of Dean Winchester that was being painted in his mind. 

“That idjit shouldn’t’ve played against Dean in the first place, it was his own fault.” 

Castiel turned to find that he and Charlie had been joined by an older man, who was standing in the doorway. Bobby, he guessed. The owner. Dean talked about him almost like a father. 

Bobby turned his attention to Castiel. “So you’re Dean’s new friend,” he said, surveying him carefully. 

  
“Er, yes, I am. Sir.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “‘Bobby’ is fine, I’m not an old man. Well, Dean says you have a business too. Never mentioned what it was, though.”

Castiel glanced around nervously. “My brother and I co-own a flower shop. We’ve had it for a few years.”

“Huh. So that’s where he got those flowers,” Bobby said thoughtfully. “They lasted a while, we had ‘em up at the front desk for a week or something. Good quality.” 

They got along well, Castiel was relieved to find, and they launched into a conversation about owning businesses. It was a short one- Dean hurried into the break room, oil smeared on his clothes and hands. He looked great like that- grimy and a little frazzled- but then again, Castiel was sure it was impossible for Dean to look anything less than gorgeous. 

“Cas!” Dean’s eyes lit up when he saw him, and _god did Castiel want to kiss him._

That wasn’t really an option, though, so he settled for a smile and a “Hello, Dean.” 

“I’m glad you could make it,” Dean said. “That’s Charlie and Bobby, and then Kevin texted, he’s on his way over now.” 

“There had better not be pineapple or any of that crap on my pizza,” Bobby grumbled. 

“He said he would get meatlovers, pepperoni, cheese, and one for rabbits,” Dean said. “He’s taking leftovers to his Trigonometry Teacher.” 

“Hope he didn’t promise the guy anything,” Charlie said. “With four of us and Dean, it’s going to go fast.” 

Castiel’s head tilted slightly to the side. “One for rabbits?” he asked. “I didn’t realize you had a rabbit here.”

Charlie laughed. “No rabbit, just Kevin.”

“Then why put rabbit food on it?” 

Dean explained. “I think eating healthy is a nerd thing. Kevin’s the only person I’ve seen eat that garbage besides Sam, and they’re both nerds.”

“It can’t be a nerd thing,” Charlie said. “I don’t eat it.”

“Dean doesn’t either,” Castiel said, “and he may be one of the nerdiest people I know.”

“Hey!” Dean protested. “I’m not a nerd. I’m just… uh…” He fished around for a word. “...knowledgeable. In… geeky areas.”

“So, a nerd,” Charlie said. 

Dean glared at her, then at Castiel. “This doesn’t leave this room, you hear?” 

Cas looked at Dean seriously. “I don’t know, Dean. It is excellent blackmail material.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare-“

Castiel smiled knowingly. 

When Cas smiled like that- Jesus, was it a beautiful smile- it took all of Dean’s self control to keep from kissing that smug look off his face.

  
Bobby and Charlie didn’t know about him and Cas, though, and neither did Kevin. After how Joh- how _Lisa_ had reacted to his bisexuality, he wasn’t too keen on leaving Narnia more than he had to. 

Sure, Charlie was a lesbian, and no one had any problems with that, but what if they had problems with _him?_

_You told Cas about being bi a minute after you met him, and that went fine. Better than fine, actually. Awesome is more like it,_ a voice in the back of his head whispered. _And you’ve known Bobby for years and he knows you. It’s the same with Charlie, you’ve known her since she started working at the garage your senior year, and you’ve known Kevin since he was a freshman. They_ know _you. What could go wrong?_

A lot. A lot could go wrong. So instead of kissing Cas, he continued bantering. 

“I have a reputation to uphold!” 

“It’s too late now,” Charlie said. “We’re all in on your secret.” 

“Well, then let’s keep it a secret.” Dean turned to Cas and pointed at him sternly. “No blackmail.” 

“I won’t make any promises,” Cas said. He smiled at Dean again, and it took all the control Dean had to keep from leaning across the pool table to kiss him.

Kevin showed up ten minutes later, arms laden with pizza boxes. He seemed to find Cas slightly intimidating, but warmed up to him by the time they had finished talking about H. G. Wells. 

“I like Food of the Gods the most,” Kevin said. “His writing was the best in that one.”

“I did like that one,” Cas said thoughtfully. “Although I would have enjoyed it more if there had been giant bees instead of wasps. My favorite was The Invisible Man. I found the story very intriguing.” 

  
“I didn’t like the story much. Griffin was too unpredictable. But the commentary was interesting,” Kevin nodded. “When Kemp was introduced….”

They went on like that until Bobby asked them if they would speak in a language that the rest of them understood. That was how game night came up.

  
“I’m almost unbeatable at Dr. Mario now,” Charlie bragged. “I’d like to see one of you take me on.”

“You suck at Dr. Mario,” Dean said. “Easy.”

“Not anymore,” Charlie grinned. “I bet I could even beat Sam.” 

“No way,” Bobby said. “None of us can even come close with that kid.”

“Yes way. Sam’s coming back for summer, right?” Charlie turned to Dean. 

“Yeah, Sammy’ll be here,” Dean said. 

“Great. One of the night’s he’s here, we’re going to have a game night,” Charlie decided. 

“What night? I’ve got a concert over the break I have to be at….” Kevin pulled out his phone to look through his calendar. 

“Whatever night that isn’t,” Dean said. “We’ve got no plans.”

Charlie turned to Cas. “You should come too. Everyone brings snacks and stuff. We kick Dean’s ass at Mario Kart. Laugh at him a bit.”

  
“No you don’t!” Dean protested. He wasn’t bad at Mario Kart. He just… wasn’t good. He came in last everytime. 

“Not as much as at Bobby, though.”

Well, every time except for when Bobby played. Then he was second to last.

“You idjits and your video games,” Bobby grumbled. “I only show up because Dean brings beer and I have the keys.” 

“Thank you for the invitation,” Cas said, glancing towards the floor, “but I’m afraid that I’m not good with electronic games.”

“Come on, there’s got to be at least one game that you’re good at,” Dean said. “Frogger? Tetris? Galaga? Wii Sports?” 

Cas shook his head no to all of them. 

“Everyone can play Wii Sports,” Charlie insisted. “You can’t be that bad at it.”

The look on Cas’ face said otherwise. “You know the golf that’s on there?” He sighed. “I manage to hit the ball backwards everytime.”

“Is that even possible?” Kevin asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Wow. I didn’t know someone could suck _that_ much at golf.” Charlie seemed impressed. 

“You might even rival Bobby,” Kevin said. 

“Hey, be nice to my baby!” Dean said.

“Your baby?” Charlie said, raising her eyebrows.

Dean realized what he had said. _Fuck._ “I- I mean, treat her like Baby,” he said, stumbling over his words.

  
“You mean your car?” Kevin said skeptically. 

  
“Yes.” It sounded more like a question. 

  
Charlie kept looking between Cas and Dean. Her eyes widened. “Wait, are you two-“

Bobby came to Dean’s rescue. “You want us to treat Cas like a lady?” 

“Yeah!” Dean said enthusiastically. “Yeah, Cas here is a lady at heart. Show some respect.”

Cas went slightly pink, but gave Dean a soft smile. 

No one brought up Dean’s fumble- at least, not until after Cas had left and they were back in the garage working. 

“So, Dean,” Charlie said nonchalantly. “Did your boyfriend like me?” 

Dean shot her a look. “Cas is-“ _amazing, perfect, adorable, extremely kissable, probably pretty great in bed_ “-not my boyfriend.” 

  
“Well, you two were looking at each other the way Gilda and I do when we see her parents,” Charlie said matter-of-factly, opening the hood of the Ford she was working on. “We’re not conservative, you know. If you’d wanted to kiss him, you could have.” 

“Look, Charlie, Cas and I aren’t a thing. I don’t even swing that way.”

Jesus, Dean was so tired of the lying. He wanted to claim Cas as his, tell everyone that he was going out with such a freaking awesome guy. He couldn’t, though. 

  
Dean could count the number of people who knew on one hand; Cas, Jo, Lisa, and J-

Point being, he wanted to keep it that way. The less people who knew, the less people who could tell Sam. 

“Really? Because you show up on my gaydar,” Charlie said. “It’s only been wrong six times before.”

“Then make it seven times, now.”

  
“No, because I know for a fact that it’s right.”

“And how do you know that? Have you been stalking me?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “When you went to go walk Castiel out, you were gone for a lot longer than it should take to walk a friend to their car. When you weren’t back five minutes later, I went to go make sure you hadn’t been kidnapped or something.” 

Dean stopped trying to readjust the timing belt on his engine. _Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-_

  
“You and him were making out behind his car.” Charlie grinned. “Would’ve been better if you did it in front of Kevin, though. He would’ve owed me ten bucks.” 

“You can’t tell anyone,” Dean said quietly. 

“Not even for my ten bucks? Come on, Winchester.”

“I mean it, Charlie- I- if anyone else, especially Sam, or Bobby- if they find out, then-“

“I’m just kidding, Dean,” Charlie said. She became more serious. “I’m not going to tell anyone. Being outed sucks.”

Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

“I gotta say, Cas is pretty cool. How’d you two meet?” 

  
“When Lisa and I broke up, I went to get her a nice ‘fuck you’ bouquet,” Dean said, smiling faintly. “Cas was working the counter.” 

Charlie snorted. “You met him buying a bouquet for your ex? Guess it’s better than how Gilda and I met, though. Did I ever tell you about that?” 

Dean shook his head. “Nope.”

“I was out LARPing, and we got matched up for sparring. I kinda gave her a concussion,” Charlie said. “Not my best moment, but we’re together now, so….” She shrugged. 

Dean laughed. “Of course you injured her. Did you at least be a lady and pay for her hospital bills?” 

  
“Shut up,” Charlie told him good naturedly. 


	11. Interlude: Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW- ABUSE IN THIS CHAPTER.  
> Feel free to skip if you have to. It’s just a flashback thing to the last time Dean saw John.

**_Interlude: Nightmare_ **

  
  


  
Sam had been sitting next to the hospital bed for fourteen hours and fifty seven minutes. 

Dean was still unconscious. 

“He has three broken ribs, a broken nose, more bruises than we can count, and severe head trauma,” the doctor had said. “The bruises and nose are easy to deal with. The ribs and head trauma less so; if he wakes suddenly he could jostle his ribs, which, worst case scenario, could puncture a lung. That’s assuming he does wake up. He may go into a coma. We’re not sure.”

“Can’t you do something?” Sam had pleaded.

“For now, we’ve done all we can. We’ll continue monitoring him in the meantime and prepare for possible outcomes. Both good and bad.” He looked grimly at Sam. “Son, I hope for both your sake and his that he pulls through this, but preparing for all outcomes means that you have to know he might not make it.”

“Dean will make it,” Sam insisted. 

  
The doctor nodded, indulging him, then left him alone with Dean and the machines surrounding the bed, flashing, clicking, and whirring. 

That was fourteen hours and forty three minutes ago. 

Now, Sam buried his head in his hands. “Dammit, Dean, you’ve got to wake up. Please.” 

  
He glanced back towards the bed, where Dean remained bruised and bandaged, unmoving. 

This was all his fault, if only he’d done something sooner, if Sam had knocked him out before, or expected John to lunge-

__

_ They had been watching Dr. Sexy MD when the knock came. Or rather, Dean had been watching Dr. Sexy while Sam rolled his eyes and researched plane ticket prices to California.  _

__

_ “I’ll get it,” Dean said, moving away from the TV. “It’s a commercial break.” He headed for the door, opened it, and stiffened like a soldier faced with their drill sergeant.  _

__

_ “Who is it?” Sam wasn’t really paying attention, he was more focused on takeoff times and connections. _

__

_ There was no response.  _

__

_ “Dean?” Sam got up and made for the door.  _

__

_ Dad was the last person he was expecting. They hadn’t seen him in months. Not since Sam had turned eighteen and was able to join Dean in Sioux Falls.  _

__

_ Then, John had cared just enough to wear clean clothes, or at least clothes that looked clean enough. Now, his jacket was discolored and covered in old stains. His hair had never been neat, but now it was matted and messy. _

__

_ John surveyed him. “Sam.” His breath reeked of whisky.  _

__

_ “Dad.”  _

__

_ “You two owe me,” he said. “You owe me.”  _

__

_Jesus, how drunk is he?  
_ __

_ Sam shook his head. “What are you talking about?” _

__

_ “For all those years under my roof,” John said. “Letting you eat from my table, clothing you, wasting money on you-“ _

__

_ “You’re drunk, Dad.”  _

__

_ “You owe me, loadsa money. Loadsa it, fer ever’thing.” His words were beginning to slur.  _

__

_ Very drunk. This wasn’t good.  _

__

_ “We don’t owe you anything,” Dean said sharply. “We didn’t even have a roof! Just crappy motel rooms here and there.”  _

__

_ “I paidfer it all,” John said.  _

__

_ “You paid for gas and a night here or there. Guess who got the money for clothes? And food? Me.” Dean was getting angrier. “If anything, you owe us. You were our dad, you were supposed to take care of us. Instead, you would go from bar to bar getting drunk off your ass and cart Sam and I behind you, claiming you were looking for Mom’s killer. She wasn’t murdered, she died in a fire!” _

__

_ “Don’t chu talk ‘bout Mary like that.” John’s voice shook. “Don’t talk ‘bout her like that.” _

__

_ “It’s the truth. She’s dead, and it was an accident, not murder! You’re just so desperate to have someone to blame that-“  _

_   
Y’do best to show me some respeck. I fed an’ clothed you, an’ I dealed with yer hobbies with them boys. Mary woulda been disgusted, pro’ly wouldn’t’ave call you her son if she knew. It was damn gooda me to-“  _

__

_ Sam didn’t think he’d ever seen Dean look that murderous or unsure. _

__

_ “You shut your mouth,” Dean said, voice low and almost undetectably unsteady.  _

_   
“Wha’d you say to me, boy?”  _

__

_ “I said you shut your damn mouth.” _

__

_ John lunged at Dean, fists flying.  _

__

_ Sam hadn’t seen that coming, and he froze up.  _

__

_ John was pummeling Dean, knuckles colliding with his chest and face as they tumbled to the ground. Dean was trying to block the punches, trying to fight his way free, but John was on top of him, and drunker and heavier than he was. The odds were not in his favor.  _

__

_ When they had still lived with John, there had been times where Dean and Dad had gotten into bad fights, and Dean would tell Sam to go get some ice or get in the Impala and listen to music as loud as he wanted. When he would come back from getting ice or finally crawled out of the car, Dean would sport a new bruise, or a split on his lip, and give Sam the excuse that he had fallen and hit himself. Sam hadn’t questioned it until they were older, and he realized that they hadn’t been from tripping over a rug or running into a doorknob, but from John. That Dean had sent him out of the room so he wouldn't get hurt.  _

__

_ This was what happened when Dean sent him out of the room. _

__

_ John was shouting. _

_   
“Ya ungrateful bitch, stealing from me, disrespectin’ your mother! Disrespectin’ me! You’re a thief, a whore, anda fa-“ _

__

_ Sam unfroze. _

_   
“Get off him! Stop!”  _

__

_ He tried pulling John away from Dean, earning only a hard hit to his chin that left him staggering away. It was no use, he couldn’t pull John off. He had to do something, though- there was blood on John’s fists and on Dean’s face and chest, then a sickening crack that came from somewhere below John and Dean groaned in pain, and- _

__

_ “Chu screwed with everything! Took Sammy from me, took Mary from me, ruined itall and yeh don’t even have the shameteh try an’ repay-“ _

__

_ Sam grabbed Dean’s half empty beer bottle from off the counter and hit John over the head with it.  _

__

_ John collapsed to the side, beer raining down on him and Dean.  _

__

_ “Dean? Dean, can you hear me?”  _

__

_ Dean’s breathing was heavy. There were gashes all over his face. Bruises were beginning to form.  _

__

_ “Hurts like a-“ Dean winced and stifled a gasp of pain “-bitch. Not feeling too….” He trailed off, and his eyes grew unfocused.  _

_   
“Dean? Dean!”  _

  
Fuck, why hadn’t he done something sooner? Why hadn’t he done something sooner instead of frozen while John pulverized Dean and spewed crap? 

_   
“Ya ungrateful bitch, stealing from me, disrespectin’ your mother! Disrespectin’ me! You’re a thief, a whore, anda fa-“ _

Why? 

  
Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy?

If it weren’t for him, Dean would be fine and he wouldn’t be sitting in a room that reeked of antiseptic and praying that Dean would wake up. Praying that the heart monitor wouldn’t go off and send doctors rushing in with defibrillators and clipboards-

Sam closed his eyes tightly. 

Don’t think like that, he’s going to be fine. He’s going to be fine. He’s  _ got  _ to be fine. 

At sixteen hours and twenty four minutes, the police showed up. Jody Mills was a welcome distraction from repeating the words “ _ he’s going to make it” _ in his head like a broken record. Even if it meant reliving what had happened. 

  
“I know you told us what happened when the ambulance showed up,” she said, “but I’m going to have to ask that you tell me again, with all the details you can remember. Can you do that?”

Sam nodded hollowly. 

“Alright. Start from the beginning. What were you doing before John Winchester came to your apartment?”

He told her, starting with Dr. Sexy and plane tickets to the knock at the door, then John appearing drunk as hell demanding compensation for clothing and feeding them, for putting up with Dean’s “hobbies with them boys,” whatever than meant. Dean getting aggressive and refusing to pay him. John getting angry. Him knocking Dean to the ground and striking him with punch after punch until Sam knocked him out. Dean falling unconscious and Sam calling an ambulance. 

When the nightmare had been relayed, Jody jotted some things down on a notepad. “That’s all we’ll need for now. Someone will call if we need more information.” She rose from the chair she had been occupying, then added much less businesslike, “You should get some sleep.”

Sam shook his head wearily. “I need to be here when he wakes up.”

“If he wakes up while you’re gone, he’ll get it. I’m sure he would want you to take care of yourself.” She paused before leaving. “Just think about it, alright?”

Sam didn’t even entertain the idea. He had to be there. He owed Dean that much. 

He didn’t sleep until he had been sitting there for twenty eight hours and three minutes, when he dozed off into a fitful nightmare. 

It was better than the one he was currently trapped in. 


	12. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry about this chapter. *laughs maniacally*  
> So I don’t know why I keep being disappointed in the writers when a new episode comes out and Dean and Cas don’t acknowledge their feeling for each other. I had high hopes for the last episode, but nope. I really should expect this, shouldn’t I? Oh well. My clown makeup is still on.   
> Just a heads up, there is homophobia in this chapter.   
> Also, a disclaimer- my knowledge on hangovers/being drunk is based solely on TV shows and other fic, so it’s probably not all that accurate.

Life was good. In fact, Castiel thought happily, life was great. 

  
He couldn’t remember the last time things had been this  _ good _ . He woke up in the mornings, and didn’t find himself wishing he hadn’t had to get up. The flower shop was doing well, his plants at home had survived to see spring, Gabriel was moving in with Kali, the weather was beginning to warm. 

  
And there was Dean. 

Dean, with his beautiful green eyes and galaxy of freckles. With his sense of humor and his love for cars and secret soft spot for romance (Dean swore up and down that it didn’t happen, but Castiel had caught him crying when they watched Titanic).  _ His  _ Dean.

Castiel was sure that had Dean not decided to buy that bouquet from the shop back in February, things wouldn’t be going this smoothly.

Sure, things hadn’t been necessarily bad before. They’d been average. He had just been existing, going through the motions. But since Dean had shown up, things had brightened. Cas was  _ alive _ , felt like he was walking on air. Like he was soaring through the clouds, where nothing could touch him. 

Of course, that didn’t mean things didn’t get shitty sometimes. 

  
June third started like any day. Customers came and went throughout the morning and afternoon. Castiel and Gabriel ate lunch in the back room and chatted between orders. 

It was ten minutes to closing when Dean came.

“Hey,” he said, eyes lighting up when he saw Cas. 

Cas smiled. “Hello, Dean.” He leaned over the counter towards Dean for a chaste kiss. 

Dean obliged him happily.

“Dean-o!” Gabriel came rushing out from the back room. “How are you? Here, made you some pie.” He thrust a container into Dean’s hands. 

“When did you make pie?” Castiel asked him.

  
“Oh, you know. Earlier.” There was a gleam in Gabriel’s eyes that Castiel didn’t trust.

  
“Thanks. What kind?” Dean cracked the container lid open, and then looked up to glare at Gabriel. “Really?”

  
“What did he do?” Cas said, peeking into the container. 

Instead of pie, there was a paper cutout of pi. Gabriel grinned. “I made pi. Among… other things.”

“April Fools Day has been over for months,” Cas said, “so you can stop trying to be as obnoxious as possible to everyone.” 

Gabriel shrugged. “I'm not being obnoxious. And if I am, it’s only towards Dean since he wasn’t here April first.”

“It’s June, Gabriel,” Cas said, deadpan.

“It’s June?” Dean said. “Shit, it’s June. Sam’s coming in, like, four days.”

  
“When does his flight land?” Cas inquired. 

  
“Sometime in the afternoon. I’ve gotta check with him about that. Probably should also clean the apartment.”

“Do you need any help?”

“With cleaning the apartment?”

Castiel nodded. 

“My super hot boyfriend could potentially help,” Dean said, “but not his trickster brother.”

“Come on, you’re going to have a party and not invite me?” Gabriel complained. “I’m hurt.”

“Why don’t you go do something, Gabriel?” Castiel suggested, giving him the look. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He headed back into the back room.

Cas turned back to Dean and opened his mouth to say something. 

The bell rang. 

“One moment,” Cas said, turning towards the customer. 

The woman was surveying the shop with warm brown eyes when they rested on Dean. Her face hardened. “Dean.” 

“Lisa,” Dean said coolly. 

So this was Lisa Braeden. Dean’s ex-girlfriend who had gotten the- in Castiel’s opinion- well deserved “fuck you” bouquet. 

  
Dark coffee brown hair, a red professional dress, and an expression of utter disgust on her face. Disgust aimed at Dean. 

Something hot and angry pooled in Castiel’s stomach. 

“You might not want to associate with him,” Lisa said, turning to Castiel. “He’s a homosexual.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

Lisa’s was unreadable for a moment. “Oh.” She took a breath and forced a smile onto her face. “You know, you can see a doctor for it. I tried to convince Dean to go, but he decided he wanted to stay like that. Broken.” 

“Dean is not broken,” Cas snapped. “He’s perfect how he is, and if you can’t see that, then that is  _ your  _ problem, not his!” 

Lisa bristled. “It’s unnatural!”

“You’ll find, in fact, that it is quite natural, seeing as it is found plenty in nature. Penguins, dolphins, giraffes, and plenty of other species have the capability to identify as homosexual. Humans are no different.” 

Lisa opened her mouth to argue “That’s-“ 

  
“We actually have a no tolerance policy when it comes to homophobia,” Gabriel cut her off, stepping out of the back room. 

There was a tense silence, then Lisa turned on her heel and made for the door. 

“Have a nice day, asshole!” Gabriel called after her. 

The bell rang as the door closed behind her. 

“We should put up a sign in the window with that on it,” he mused. “Or a flag. What do you think, Cassie?”

“Perhaps. Dean? You alright?” Cas turned to look at him. 

Dean looked slightly shaken now, not as collected as he had been when Lisa first walked in. 

“Fine,” he said, sounding falsely confident. “I’m fine.”

Castiel wanted to be angry at Lisa- he could tell Dean was not fine, and it was because she had shown up- but anger was not what Dean needed right now. 

“Dean,” Cas prompted gently. 

Dean just shook his head. 

“I’m going to go hire a hit man,” Gabriel said cheerfully. “Be back in a minute.” He disappeared back into the back room. 

Cas closed his hand around Dean’s. 

They were silent for a moment. 

“When I was in high school, my dad walked in on me and another guy. The guy left pretty quickly, and when he was gone, you know what my dad said?” Dean’s voice hardened. “‘You fucking faggot.’ And then he- well, it wasn’t pretty. When he was done, he pulled out the whiskey, got drunk, and screamed at me some more because I guess it’s no fair to him that I was broken. Why couldn’t he have a good son who was on the football team and had a cheerleader girlfriend and shit? But no, he got a son who’s not limited to just girls and sucks at football. Sucks to be John Winchester. 

  
“And Lisa Braeden? ‘You’re great, Dean, you really are, but you need help. It’s not your fault you’re broken.’ Well, fudge you, Lisa, because I’m not going to let some psycho strap me to a chair and electrocute me. Not happening. I’m not broken because I’m bi, so why can’t people just- just stop telling me that I am? It’s fudging stupid, and I wish they would just mind their own fucking business! Or if they have to stick their noses in my life, why can’t they just accept me? Is it really that hard?”

  
Cas squeezed his hand lightly. “It shouldn’t be.”

“Then why do they keep insisting there’s something wrong with me?” 

“Because they’re assbutts,” Cas said. 

The ghost of a smile flitted across Dean’s face. “Assbutts? Really?”

“I think it’s an adequate term. Unless you have a better one.” 

Gabriel chose that moment to barge back in. “Loki said that he’ll call one of his guys, she’ll be taken care of by the end of the week. All good in here?”

Dean snorted feebly. “Your friend is a hit man?”

“Yup. And he’s going to solve all your problems. Think of it as an early birthday present.”

“You didn’t actually ask Loki to kill her, did you?” Castiel turned to look at Gabriel. 

Gabriel shrugged. “Well….”

“Gabriel!”

“I just told him to freak her out,” he said. “What’s the harm in that?”

“Being arrested.” 

“So I take it you want me to cancel?”

“Yes, please.”

Gabriel sighed, evidently disappointed. “Fine. Let me know if you change your mind.” He left the room.

“Hey, Cas?” 

“Yes, Dean?”

  
“How’d you know all those nature facts? About dolphins being gay and shit.” 

“Next time you come over to my place, I’ll show you,” Cas told him. 

“Is it that secret?” Dean said. He wasn’t back to his normal, loud banter, but his tone had a teasing edge to it.

Cas gave a small smile. “No, but we don’t have a television in here, so I can’t pull up the discovery channel.”

“Discovery channel?” Dean was incredulous. “Hell no. I’ll put up with your sappy romance movies, but I draw the line at watching discovery channel.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “It’s fascinating.”

Dean gave him a look. “It’s not as good as Indiana Jones. Or Star Wars. Or westerns. Or, you know, good stuff.” 

“I happen to know for a fact that you actually enjoy Shark Week, which takes place on discovery.”

“Where’d you hear that?” 

Cas grinned at him smugly. “Kevin.”

Dean scowled. “Dammit, Kevin!”

When Lisa had shown up and started talking, it had un-gagged the voice in the back of his head that was worried about Sam’s visit. The one that said,  _ if he ever finds out, he’ll leave you. He’ll hate you. _

Dean had been ignoring it since Sam had asked if he could come. Lately, he’d been doing a good job of it. Then Lisa Braeden had to show up. 

When he and Cas had had that dangerously close to a chick flick talk (thank god Cas had decided to invent the word assbutt instead of giving him one of those big, sappy speeches) he had been honest- he was sick of people thinking they knew what was right for him, tired of people assuming he was just another machine that needed oiling, even when he was running fine. 

The one thing he hadn’t mentioned was how terrified he was that Sam would join the ever increasing list of people who wrote him off as in need of repair. 

That was one of the things he didn’t like to think about. How Sam might react if he found out. Funny, considering how he thought about it often. Right now, though, Dean was intent on forgetting. Intent on thinking about something else, distracting himself.

That was what he was trying to do now, while he sat on the couch of his apartment drinking a beer. Or three. 

Fuck, what was he going to do when Sam showed up? Sam was going to be staying with him, he was going to be here in Sioux Falls, where Lisa could see him and tell him, or he could walk in on Dean with Cas, or Charlie or Jo could accidentally let something slip. There were so many things that could go wrong. 

  
But, like Cas had said, things might not. And Cas was usually right, wasn’t he? Dean trusted him. So maybe he should tell Sam. And maybe things would go alright. Maybe it wouldn’t blow up in his face and leave him estranged from his brother. 

Could he really take that chance though?

He wasn’t sure; the beer was making it hard to think straight. That probably meant he should stop drinking. 

Dean looked at his half gone bottle. Oh well. Wouldn’t hurt to finish this one. 

And it didn’t. Until the next morning when he woke up with a headache and a parched throat. 

Fricking hangovers. 

  
The only good thing that came of growing up around John Winchester was an expansive knowledge of hangover cures, courtesy of his drinking problem. 

Most people would think that because of John’s problem, Dean would avoid drinking. Nope. It was a coping mechanism, and that was the whole point. As long as he was responsible, it was fine.

And, as Dean told himself whenever he used it, he was not his father. 

_ Not your father, not your father, not your father.  _

So what if John had drank to run away from his problems too? Dean wasn’t going to abandon Sam or Cas, he wasn’t going to leave the people he loved. Never. They deserved better than that, so he would do his damn best to stay.

Dean made his way from the couch to the fridge and started rooting around for orange juice. 

One gag-inducing Winchester hangover cure later, he was making his way downstairs to the Impala. Inventory of the fridge made him realize that he was lacking in food. At least, food that Sam would eat. Dean didn’t see what was wrong with excessive amounts of bacon and Winchester surprise, but his brother was under the impression that it wasn’t healthy enough. 

“Healthy my ass,” Dean had told him last time Sam complained about the contents of his fridge. It hadn’t stopped him from going to the store and coming back half an hour later with his arms full of lettuce. 

Sam had grinned and announced he was making a salad. 

  
Why the hell was he so set on being healthy? Screw carrots, you couldn’t go wrong with a good cheeseburger.

Like then, Dean’s personal aversions didn’t stop him from buying an obnoxious amount of rabbit food to stuff in the fridge for Sam when he came. 

It was taking all his willpower and some not to worry, because it was three days to when Sam would fly in, three days to when he was going to have to lie to Sam’s face, three days to when he was going to have to be vigilant of every word that left his mouth and pray that he wasn’t suspicious, pray that his brother wouldn’t hate him- 

  
Three days. 

Dean didn’t want to think about how panicked he would be the day Sam was flying in. 

  
He could really go for another beer right now. 

A few beers later, a not-quite-sober Dean had an idea: it would be impossible to worry about Sam  _ finding out _ if he already  _ knew _ . Before he could think it through, Dean’s phone was in hand. He selected an action. 

_ Call Sammy _ . 


	13. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kinda short. Sorry. It just worked better this way for flow and stuff. Because of how this chapter is (you may or may not hate me) I’ll be updating chapter 5 (I think it’s chapter 5 at least, my docs is a mess) because I realized that Meg hasn’t shown up at all, so at some point this week, whenever I finish editing it, it’s going to be updated. Whenever that is, I strongly suggest rereading that chapter, because it’s going to be relevant in a bit.  
> Also, there’s a new interlude that I’m going to be adding at some point in the next few weeks that goes before the other one, so just a heads up.  
> 95% sure this next episode is the last opportunity we’ll get for Dean and Cas to get over themselves and make out, so I’m really anxious. Also, everyone is under the impression that Cas is going to die, so, yanno.... The whole fandom is going to be a mess on Thursday.  
> IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY, PLEASE VOTE!!! IF YOU CAN’T VOTE, PLEASE MAKE SURE THE PEOPLE YOU KNOW WHO CAN DO!!!  
> Alrighty, that was a long A/N. I’m sorry. I’ll stop typing now.

Cas was woken up in the middle of the night by a loud ringing. He groaned, fumbling for his phone, which he had left on the nightstand. It was about three in the morning. Why would anyone be calling him then? 

  
Most likely it was just a scammer. He would turn off his ringer, roll over, and fall back asleep. 

Castiel’s hand closed around his phone and he held it up, squinting tiredly at the bright screen. 

_Call from Dean_

Dean wouldn’t call him at this time, would he? Unless- there was a spark of fear- something had happened. 

Cas did his best tamper down the spark before it became a blaze, and answered the call. 

“Dean? Dean, are you okay?” 

  
Dean’s voice was shaky on the other end of the phone. “I screwed up, Cas. I- shit, I screwed up so badly.” 

This was doing nothing to ease Cas’ worry.

  
“What happened?” 

“I called Sam,” Dean said. “I was drunk and thought that if Sam knew I wasn’t straight then I wouldn’t have to worry about him finding out when he came, so I called and- _fuck_. I told him, point blank told him, and then hung up.” 

  
“Has he tried calling you back? Or texting you?” 

“No. Dammit, Cas, what the hell am I supposed to do?” 

He sounded so small and afraid. Castiel hated it. Dean shouldn’t have to feel like that. 

The words were out of his mouth before he fully realized what he was saying. 

“Just stay there, Dean. I’m going to come over, okay? Don’t drink any more alcohol. Have some water, you’re probably dehydrated. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” 

Cas ended the call, felt his way to the apartment door, pulled on his trench coat, and hurried down the stairs and to the street. The keys to his Lincoln were accessible in his pocket. 

Cas drove a little bit over the speed limit as he raced through the dim streets of Sioux Falls. He knew Dean wouldn’t do anything stupid right now- nothing dangerously stupid, at least- but it didn’t mean he was going to leave him there alone to agonize over what had happened. Not for any longer than it took to get there, which was still too long.

Less than ten minutes after the car had sputtered to life, Castiel was pulling onto the street with Dean’s apartment. Since they had seen Star Wars, he had been there once, but he remembered where it was. 

Dean was waiting in the front hall, and when Cas came in, he collapsed against him, letting Cas simply hold him tightly. Cas could feel, from the way Dean melted into him, the tension in his body dissipating, how upset he was. How terrified he was that his spur of the moment, drunk decision, that this was going to estrange him from his brother. 

  
“It’s going to be alright,” Cas said quietly. 

Dean buried his face deeper into his shoulder. 

They stood like that, Dean leaning against Cas, enveloped in his arms, for a long while. 

“Probably should head upstairs,” Dean mumbled into the trench coat. 

Neither of them moved. 

Eventually, Dean pulled away reluctantly. “Sorry for getting your coat wet.”

Cas looked down. The fabric where Dean’s face had been nestled on his shoulder was damp.

“It’s fine,” he said. 

Dean nodded, eyes on the floor. 

“Dean-“ 

“No chick flick moments. C’mon.” Dean took his hand and led him upstairs to his apartment. 

Dean’s steps were steady, but Castiel could see how much effort it took to keep them so. (He had, Castiel suspected, had a decent amount of practice. Since Cas had gotten to know him, he had learned that Dean was a master at taking care of others before himself, and burying everything to do so.) 

The apartment was messy, as it had been the last time Cas was there, but now in a less homey way. More cluttered and unkept. There were a number of empty beer bottles on the small kitchen’s counter, and judging by the way the pillows were bunched up against one of the armrests, Dean had slept on the couch. 

“Did you have any water yet?” Cas asked.

Dean shook his head. 

“I’ll get you some.” Cas moved towards the kitchen. 

“I can get it,” Dean said. 

“You could, but you’re not. Go sit down.” 

It was a moment before Dean nodded, then went to collapse on the couch. 

Cas joined him there a minute later, passing him a glass of water. 

Dean took it wordlessly. 

_What had he done?_ _What the fuck had he done?_

It was only after Dean could think straight that it hit him what had happened. 

  
_Sam knew._

The words kept repeating in his head over and over and over until his chest felt like it was collapsing, and the oxygen was being caught before it entered his lungs. 

Like he was drowning. It didn’t help that the room seemed to be shaking. As though it was going to come down around him and bury him.

It was a few minutes before Dean realized that the room wasn’t shaking- he was. He willed himself to stop, to get a grip because the world wasn’t ending, even if it felt like it. 

  
Dean clenched the kitchen counter hard enough that it hurt. 

  
Fuck, he had told Sam- _he had told Sam_ \- and judging by the timestamp on the call, it had been hours since he had called, and Sam hadn’t responded. There were no missed calls, no messages or emails, nothing. 

  
What if Sam never called back? What if he never wanted to speak to Dean again? 

Don’t think about that, he told himself. Don’t think about that. 

Dean’s lungs still felt waterlogged and useless. He had to get a grip, he had to breathe. 

The only thing Dean could think of that calmed him down without fail was Cas. He should call Cas. Even if Cas didn’t answer, he could at least hear his voice on the voicemail.

The phone was in Dean’s unsteady hands for some time before he punched in Cas’ number. It was the middle of the night, he didn’t want to bother him. Cas had his own problems, and he didn’t need to have to worry about Dean on top of that. 

Selfishly, Dean called anyway. Surprisingly, Cas picked up. 

He had been worried when he answered, but regardless, Dean was relieved to hear his voice. 

It was like a dam breaking- with Cas on the other side of the line, everything came tumbling out, the words falling from his mouth, as Dean stumbled over what had happened, what he had done. When Cas showed up in the lobby of Dean’s apartment building not fifteen minutes later, clad in his trench coat and bee pajamas, something warm had flared in Dean’s chest. He had collapsed into his touch, grounded. Cas was there. Cas shouldn’t have had to be there cleaning up Dean’s mess and Dean felt guilty about that, but he was there and Dean was glad. 

Now, they were sitting on his brown, lumpy couch in silence. If Dean had been alone, he knew he wouldn’t have been this relaxed. Not that he was relaxed,but at least with Cas next to him he could breathe. 

His thoughts were racing, and the silence wasn’t helping. Dean tried to fill it. 

“I, uh, I like your pjs,” he said. “There a reason you’re wearing bee pajamas?”

Cas didn’t respond for a moment. He looked at Dean, concerned, before the smallest expression of understanding flashed across his face. 

“When I was little,” Cas said, “I wanted to raise bees.”

Dean managed a faint smile and said quietly, “Huh. That why you have all those flowers on your balcony in the summer? So the bees come?” 

“Yes. I find that they make good company,” Cas affirmed. 

“Do you still want to have a hive?” Dean asked. 

“It’s impractical,” Cas said thoughtfully, “but yes. I would like that.”

Dean nodded, and they lapsed back into silence.

Somehow, Dean found himself leaning on Cas’ shoulder and Cas’ head on his, and thinking maybe things could turn out okay. 

The phone rang from the coffee table. Dean tensed. He picked it up.

_Call from Sammy._


	14. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At 7:52pm (central time) on Thursday November 5th, a glorious thing occurred: destiel became cannon. WE’RE NOT CLOWNS ANYMORE, FOLKS! WOOHOO!   
> My new favorite sentence is “Destiel is cannon.” Not that it wasn’t before. But now it’s CANNON cannon. And Angel With a Shotgun hits different now. I’ve got so much to say about 15x18 and what I’m predicting for the last episodes, but we’d be here for awhile. So, moving on.   
> If anyone comes through and reads this post 15x20, they’re going to be so amused by all these A/Ns since they know how it ended. I don’t know if I’ve said that before, but if I have then I’m saying it again.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. 

  
“Let’s just get this over with, okay, Sammy?”

“What?” 

“Just tell me I’m a fag and you don’t ever want to see me again,” Dean said, throat tight. “I’d rather just get it over with.” He braced himself. 

“No,” Sam said calmly. 

  
“Please, Sam.” He couldn’t take it being drawn out. Hell, Dean wasn’t sure if he could take it short and sweet. Not from Sam. 

“No. Dean, what makes you think I’d say that? You’re my brother. Why would I care if you like guys if it makes you happy?” 

Dean stilled. “What?” He wasn’t going to get his hopes up. He must’ve heard that wrong.

Sam sighed over the line. “Did you not hear what I said? If guys make you happy, that’s fine so long as you don’t provide me with any details that’ll make me have to get out the brain bleach.”

  
“Are- are you serious?” 

“Yes, Dean, of course I’m serious!”

  
It took a moment to soak in. 

Sam… Sam… didn’t care. He was  _ okay _ with it. 

  
“Well, uh, in that case, I should probably tell you that Cas isn’t a she.”

  
Dean could almost see Sam’s eye roll. “Yeah, I worked that out for myself when you called earlier and told me. Did you think I didn’t notice how you kept saying ‘they’ all the time?”

Of course Sam had noticed that. Nothing got past that kid. 

“So, what is ‘Cas’ really short for?” 

A small smile found its way onto Dean’s face. “Castiel.” 

“Castiel.” Sam repeated the name. “Am I going to get to meet him when I fly in?”

He was still flying in. Dean felt himself relax a little bit more.

“Maybe. Depends on if you’re going to behave yourself.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

They fell quiet again. 

  
Sam broke the silence. 

  
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to get ready for class, I’m going in early.” A beat. “Thanks for telling me, Dean. Even if you were drunk.”

  
“I wasn't drunk,” Dean argued. “Just… slightly less than sober.” 

Sam huffed, amused. “You know I’m right.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“I’ll call you back later.”

“Alright. Bye.” Dean ended the call and turned to Cas, still grinning. “He, uh, he’s okay with it,” he said. “With me, I mean.”

“That’s great, Dean,” Cas said earnestly, giving Dean the small smile he reserved just for him. “I’m proud of you.” 

Dean’s grin widened. 

  
“He wants to meet you,” he said. 

“Oh?”

“I think he’ll like you.” 

“I hope so,” Cas said. 

“Don’t worry,” Dean said. “You two’ll probably team up against me within an hour of meeting each other.”

“You really think that little of me?”

“You’re blackmailing me, Cas.”

“It wouldn’t be blackmail if you would admit you were a nerd.”

“I’m not admitting anything.”

  
“So there’s something to admit?” 

  
“What? No, there’s- shit.” Dean sighed. “I walked right into that, didn’t I?” 

  
Cas nodded. “Yes, you did.” 

“Does Gabriel know you wear bee pajamas?” Dean asked, nonchalant. 

“Gabriel gave me these for my birthday,” Cas said. He gave Dean a knowing look. “You can’t blackmail me with that.” 

“Dammit. When is your birthday?” Hopefully he hadn’t missed it. 

“September.” 

Good, he hadn’t. 

“By then, I’ll have blackmail material for you,” Dean decided. 

Cas laughed, and  _ god, it was beautiful.  _

__

“I highly doubt that,” Cas said. 

“Come on, it’s not like you’re an angel,” Dean scoffed. “Right? You’re not hiding a halo and harp anywhere in your apartment, are you?”

“I don’t have a harp, Dean.” 

  
“I dunno. Maybe you do. I’ll have to search your apartment to be sure.” 

“Did you just invite yourself over?”

“Is, uh, is that okay?” Dean felt himself go slightly pink. Dammit. 

“I did do the same thing tonight. You’re entitled. And always welcome in my apartment.” Cas went a little pink. “I’m sorry I barged in,” he added.

“Don’t be sorry,” Dean said, a bit more sharply than he meant to. He softened his tone. “I’m, uh, I’m glad you came, Cas. Thank you.”

  
Cas looked up at Dean and their eyes met. 

It looked like he wanted to say something. He didn’t- Cas kept quiet, continuing to stare at Dean as though he was the world. 

No one had ever looked like that at him before. Quite frankly, Dean wasn’t sure how to respond. 

He coughed awkwardly. “Well, er, I’m going to get some sleep.”

The spell was broken; Cas made to stand up and leave. “Of course. I’m glad I could help, Dean.”

  
“Hey, uh, Cas, it’s a bit dark for you to drive all the way home. If you’d like, you can take the couch, or, uh...” Dean wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. 

Cas tilted his head to the side slightly and squinted at him. “Were you trying to invite me to sleep with you?”

“Just sleep,” Dean said hurriedly. “I mean, we can definitely do more than sleep another time, if you want to, that is, but uh, it’s a bit late.” 

Cas smiled. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“Which one?” Dean asked. 

“Both,” Cas said. 

  
Despite what Gabriel would assume when he found out Cas had spent the night at Dean’s, they just slept. 

  
Cas didn’t fall asleep right away- instead, he watched Dean. 

When Dean eased into unconsciousness, the worry lines on his face smoothed and the taut muscles (Cas tried not to think about what those muscles could do) softened.

He was beautiful, Cas thought as he stared thoughtfully at Dean’s face. He bet that if he could see more than just dark shapes, he would find it even more true. 

Cas wasn’t sure how long he watched Dean before he drifted off. All he knew was that he woke to a mattress shifting slightly and someone moving his arm. 

Cas blinked open his eyes and squinted blearily at Dean, who appeared to be trying to extract himself from Cas, who had managed to ensnare Dean in a tangle of limbs. 

Currently, Dean was trying to move Cas’ arm from where it was thrown over his torso. 

“Sorry,” Cas mumbled. His face was awkwardly pressed into Dean’s chest, muffling his words. 

“Shit. Didn’t mean to wake you up,” Dean said apologetically. “And don’t be sorry, it was cute. Wish I could have gotten a picture.”

  
“Maybe another time.” If Dean would just come back to bed, Cas could fall back asleep. 

  
Dean grinned a bit at that. “It’s my day off, I’m going to make breakfast. You want some?” 

“Do you have coffee?” 

  
“Depends, is it gonna wake you up?” 

Cas mumbled an affirmative. 

“Alright. Coffee it is, then. By the time I have it ready, you’d better be awake.” 

Cas nodded, and then closed his eyes again. 

“Hey, Cas?”

“Hm?” 

“I need to get up.” 

Oh. Right.

Cas adjusted himself so that Dean could move. 

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” Dean’s weight shifted off the bed, and the sound of his footsteps faded as he went towards the kitchen. 

The bed was cold without Dean pressed in next to him. Cas pulled the blankets tighter around himself. He had almost fallen back asleep when there were returning footsteps and a click from somewhere behind him. 

  
Cas huffed and rolled over to face Dean. 

Dean was holding up his phone and smiling. “Morning, Sunshine.” 

Cas glared at him. “I was trying to sleep.”

“Not anymore. Come on, I got some coffee for you in the kitchen.” 

Cas didn’t move. 

Dean got closer to the bed and leaned over to place a chaste kiss on Cas’ lips. “You can have another after breakfast,” he told him, then disappeared from the bedroom.

Grudgingly, Cas got out of Dean’s bed and made his way to the kitchen. 

Dean handed him a mug of coffee when he came in. “Benny made it. He’s an expert, runs a coffee shop with his wife downtown.”

“You’re driving this early in the morning?” Cas asked. 

  
“Nope. Benny and Andrea are a floor up. And it’s eight, Cas. Not early in the morning.” 

“Oh.” Cas took a sip from the mug. “This is good.” 

“Thought so. Eggs sound okay?” Dean said. 

  
“Eggs sound good,” Cas confirmed. 

Despite the fact that Dean was making something simple as eggs, Cas could tell that Dean knew what he was doing. He bustled around the small workspace expertly, working quickly and precisely, all the while joking with Cas. The light from the window got caught in his hair, turning its edges to a vibrant gold, and made his freckles even more pronounced. He was beautiful. 

Cas was still half asleep, but he knew, watching Dean, that he would be happy to wake up every morning like this. Wake up with Dean in his arms, watch Dean make breakfast, be with Dean. Everyday for the rest of his life.

_ I love him,  _ Cas realized. He loved Dean Winchester. 

The realization scared him. Of course it did. He had never been in love before. But so long as he had Dean to help him figure it out, Cas was willing to give himself up to it. Give himself up to Dean. 

“Here.” Dean tore Cas from his thoughts, setting a plate of food on the counter before him. “You should eat it before it gets cold, so no more staring off into space.”

“I wasn’t ‘staring off into space,’” Cas said, making air quotes. “I was staring at you.”

A faint blush appeared on Dean’s cheeks. “Well, uh, I-“ He cleared his throat. “We need to work on your air quotes.” 

_ We _ , Cas thought. He smiled.


	15. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That finale was great, wasn’t it? So glad we got the deancas reunion! And Dean revealed that he did, in fact, reciprocate, like we all knew! And we got human!cas endgame destiel! Sam and Eileen also were reunited! Such an amazing episode!

Dean kept glancing at the airport every few seconds. Sam’s plane was due to land any minute, and despite his brother’s reoccurring promises, Dean still half expected Sam to not show up.

  
When people began to disembark, it was impossible to miss Sam, seeing as he was a solid foot taller than everyone else. 

Dean’s face split into a grin. 

__

_ He was here. He was really here. _

__

Sam looked around the airport, mirroring Dean’s grin when he saw him. 

“Hey, Sammy!” 

“It’s good to see you, Dean.” Sam was almost the same as when he had left Sioux Falls in August; freakishly tall, bright, puppy dog eyes, hair that fell over his face. 

His hair was longer than when he had left, Dean noticed. Maybe when Sam was asleep he could get near him with some scissors, since there was no way in hell Sam would let him near his hair conscious. 

“‘Course it is. Now come on, you’ve gotta say hi to Baby, then you’re going to tell me about Stanford.”

“You’re still calling her ‘Baby?’” Sam snorted. “Doesn’t your boyfriend get jealous?”

Dean shot a glare at him. “Be nice, or I’ll make you sleep on the floor.”

  
Sam didn’t seem to buy it. He kept grinning, shaking his head. 

The whole drive back to the apartment, Dean only half heard what Sam was saying. He was just thrilled to have his brother back. Sam could have been talking about calculus and Dean would be happy to listen. 

When the Impala was parked, he turned to Sam. “You’re taking the bed- no arguing, got it?” 

As expected, Sam protested, “It’s your apartment, Dean-“

“No arguing. And anyway, the couch is pretty comfortable.” Dean opened the car door. “Let’s go.” 

It didn’t take long for Sam to settle in and head for the fridge to grab some beers for them. He was ecstatic to find the rabbit food Dean had stocked up on. 

“I’m making a salad for lunch tomorrow,” he announced. 

Dean rolled his eyes. Of course he was. Sam and his weird healthy crap. 

“So how’s the garage been?” Sam asked, passing Dean a bottle. 

“Good,” Dean said. “Bobby’s been getting lots of applications for summer. Figured we could go see him tomorrow, he can tell you more about that then. And Thursday- we’re going to have a game night, Charlie’s under the impression that she can beat you at Dr. Mario now.” 

Sam lit up. “Game night Thursday?”

“Yup.”

Sam laughed. “She’s going to regret that.”

“Probably,” Dean agreed. 

Thursday was going to be great. The gang would be back together- Charlie, Kevin, Bobby, Sam, and him, just like old times- plus, hopefully, (Dean wanted to make sure it was okay with everyone before asking) Cas. 

That did mean Sam would have to meet Cas, which made Dean panic a little because  _ what if Sam changed his mind?  _ Regardless of the feeling Dean had that they would get along. Y’know. Assuming Sam didn’t change his mind. 

Dean was probably just being paranoid- that was likely what Cas would say- but knowing that didn’t make him less anxious. 

He forced himself back to the conversation at hand. If there was even the slightest chance his brother might rethink his decision to accept Dean, Dean was going to take every moment of acceptance he could get. 

It was about ten when Sam decided he was going to turn in, leaving Dean to sleep on the couch. 

The couch wasn’t nearly as comfortable as he had told Sam it was. Really, it probably needed to be replaced. Dean still hadn’t gotten around to doing that. 

He flipped off the lights and laid down, shifting around until he was in a position that was vaguely comfortable. 

Despite the couch, Dean slept better than usual, knowing Sam was only a room away (though admittedly not as well as that night he had been snuggled up next to Cas).

Cas got the text from Dean when he was taking his lunch break.

_ You up for meeting Sam tomorrow? He just got in yesterday and we’re seeing Bobby today but he wants to meet you at some point _

Cas stared at his phone. Meet Sam. Tomorrow. 

Logistically, he had known that he would be meeting Sam eventually. He was actually sort of looking forward to meeting him. But he was Dean’s brother- the thought of meeting Sam made Cas about as anxious as the thought of meeting Bobby had. 

_ “I think he’ll like you,” _ Dean had said. 

Cas trusted Dean. Of course he did. It didn’t keep the thought of meeting his brother from making him nervous, though. 

“Hey, little bro!” Gabriel poked his head into the back room. “Your demon friend is here and won’t leave.”

“Meg is in prison, Gabriel. And I don’t have any other friends you refer to as ‘demons.’”

“No, you don’t, but Meg is here, and she looks like she wants to kill me. So hurry up, because the sooner you two talk, the sooner she leaves, and the sooner I can call the police and they can arrest her again.” Gabriel disappeared back into the front of the shop.

Meg was there? That didn’t make any sense. Wouldn’t she have mentioned it if she was getting out? 

“Yo, Clarence. Long time no see,” Meg said when Cas joined her and Gabriel in the shop, smirking. 

“You’re out,” Cas said, for lack of a better thing to say. 

“Yep.”

“I thought you still had another month?” 

  
“They needed cell space,” Meg said with a shrug. “And the head guard and I were really close, if you know what I mean.”

Cas tilted his head to the side and squinted at her. “I don’t understand. Why-”

Gabriel groaned. “It means they had sex, Cassie.”

“Oh.” That did sound like Meg. 

“So,” Meg said, “true to my word from back in March, I’m here and willing to kick ass. I know you said you and Winchester are an item, but if he’s broken your heart-“

“Dean has been nothing but good to me,” Cas assured her. “You don’t need to ‘kick his ass.’”

“Hmph. He’d better have been.”

  
“Where are you staying?” Cas asked. 

“Hopefully far away from here,” Gabriel muttered. 

Meg shot a glare at him, then turned to Cas. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. Mind if I stay with you for a few days? I just got out… three hours ago, and I have yet to find a place with reasonably priced rooms for rent.” 

“Of course.”

Gabriel gave him a look. 

Cas ignored him. “Is there anything else you need?” 

“I’d kill for a burger,” Meg said. 

“If you’d like to wait in the back,” Cas said, “we close earlier today. Dean introduced me to a really great place a while back. They have the best hamburgers I’ve ever had.”

Meg grinned. “Sounds like a plan. Thanks.”

“It’s not a problem.” And he’d been looking for an excuse to go back to the Roadhouse since Dean had taken him. 

When the shop had closed and Cas and Meg had made it to the Roadhouse, Meg agreed that the burgers were delicious. 

“Way better than your cooking,” she said. “Maybe you should sign up for a lesson or two.”

“I don’t think they offer cooking lessons,” Cas said. “And I don’t think my cooking is as bad as you claim it is.”

Meg did have a point; it usually ended in disaster when Cas was in the kitchen. He wasn’t going to admit it, though. 

“You’ve managed to burn everything,” Meg reminded him. “Except water.”

“I’ve never burned lettuce,” Cas pointed out. 

Meg rolled her eyes. “Is that supposed to be impressive?”

Cas didn’t answer, opting instead to take another bite of his burger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all honesty, I absolutely hated how they ended the show. They said “family don’t end in blood” but they ended it only with blood. The overall writing wasn’t great. I’m pretty sure they killed off Dean solely because they knew they couldn’t finish his arc without Cas and god forbid they had two queer main characters. The queer erasure in the finale, the way they were silenced, is deafening.   
> Dean and Cas deserved better. Jensen and Misha deserved better. We all deserved better. I mean, if you liked 15x20, then great, I’m glad you could enjoy it. But personally, I had a lot of problems with it.  
> I really love this fandom though. Almost everyone who was hurt by the finale has been channeling that into donating, writing fix-it fics, some people on Tumblr are planning a second mishapocalypse. This story is ours now, and we’re using it, for doing good, for writing, for carrying on. So for lots of us, was the finale what we wanted or deserved? No. But at least it’s ours now. Carry on, guys.


	16. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the last day of November. Release the tapes, Jensen.   
> Since 15x20 aired I’ve been spending most of my time writing fix-it fics so I can pretend that the ending wasn’t “gays buried and wives blurried” which has led to me being behind in writing this, so I might go on hiatus for a week to get caught up. Hopefully not, but we’ll see.   
> This chapter is pretty much just fluff. Enjoy Gabriel’s unsuccessful attempts at flirting.

Sam was in a good mood after seeing Bobby. 

  
He was in such a good mood that he didn’t complain when Dean made Winchester Surprise, which was far from kale salad. 

“This is really good,” Sam said, shoveling the food into his mouth. 

“Not nearly as good as it was when Mom made it,” Dean said. 

The mood sombered. 

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Dean cut him off with the first thing that came to mind. 

“So, youstillupformeetingcas?”

“What?”

“Are, uh, are you still up for meeting Cas?” It was a moment before Dean met his eyes. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” 

  
Dean glanced down. 

Sam was incredulous. “Dean, if this is about you thinking I’ll change my mind-“

“No! It’s, uh, it’s not that,” Dean said. 

Sam gave him bitchface number four. 

  
“Well, what do you want me to say?” 

“I don’t know- but Dean, unless Cas is an asshole, I don’t know why I’d have a problem with you two! Why is it so hard for you to accept that I accept you?” 

Sam sounded so earnest that Dean almost believed him. Almost. 

“You know me, Sammy,” Dean said, forcing humor into his voice. “Trust issues galore.” He continued before Sam could respond. “Anyway, since you’re still up for it, I was thinking we’d swing by him tomorrow. Or have him come here. I mean, unless there was something else you wanted to do.”

“Let’s see Cas tomorrow,” Sam said. 

  
“Alright. Great. We’ll go after I clean up Baby.”

“Trying to impress him with your car?” Sam teased. 

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean said. He ducked his head, hiding a smile. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Jerk.” 

  
They were quiet for a moment before Sam asked, “Is it cheating if you call your car ‘Baby?’”

Dean pointed his fork at him. “You shut your cake hole.”

The conversation moved on from there to a heated debate on whether Dr. Sexy M.D. or Criminal Minds was a better show. (Dean wasn’t even sure why it was a debate- everyone knew Dr. Sexy was the best show out there.)

  
After dinner, they managed to agree on watching Return of the King. Halfway through the movie, Sam had fallen asleep on the couch. 

Dean’s first instinct was to throw a blanket over him and turn off the movie, let him sleep. His second instinct was to take advantage of Sam’s lack of consciousness and do his brother a favor. 

It took all of ten minutes for the second instinct to win out. Quietly as he could, Dean got up off the couch and slipped into the kitchen. He dug through a few drawers before he found what he was looking for. 

Dean was positive that Sam hadn’t had a haircut since he was in high school. Someone had to help the poor kid out. 

Scissors in hand, Dean made his way behind the couch. The scissors made a soft metallic sound when he opened them. 

Sam was going to kill him. It would be worth it, though. 

Dean was about to cut the first strands of hair when Sam said, half asleep, “I swear to god, if you’re holding scissors, I’m going to rip out your lungs.” 

“It’s just a trim, Sammy!” Dean assured him. 

Sam jerked his head away. “Jesus, Dean, would you leave my hair alone? It’s not that long!”

“You’re practically Rapunzel!” 

“What? No!”

Dean was struck again by how  _ right _ it felt for Sam to be back after all the months he had been at Stanford. Like when they were kids- minus the ever looming threat of John. 

He wondered how long it would last. 

“You know what? I’m going to bed,” Sam announced. “I’d better not wake up bald tomorrow.” He stood.

“Aw, come on. It’d be a good look on you!” 

Bitchface number two. 

  
“It would,” Dean said. “Seriously. Two minutes with a pair of clippers-“

“ _ Goodnight, Dean _ .”

Dean sighed. “‘Night, Sammy. But if you change your mind-”

When morning came, Sam was still of sound mind that he didn’t want an impromptu haircut, regardless of how much expertise Dean claimed to have.

Instead of cutting Sam’s hair, Dean headed to go shine up the Impala. 

On the way back from Bobby’s yesterday, some bastard in a Toyota had driven through a muddy puddle and splashed Baby, which Dean wasn’t going to stand for. Baby was a lady. No way was he going to make her go out looking anything other than fresh out of the shop. 

He hummed Metallica while he worked. It was a slow and methodical process. Nothing but the best for his car. 

  
Dean focused on washing, doing his best to avoid thinking about what that night could entail; after the flower shop closed, it had been decided that Cas and (after making him promise to behave) Gabriel would come to the apartment. Dean would cook. Best case scenario, they hit it off with Sam and everything was sunshine and rainbows. Worst case scenario, Sam was on the next plane back to California. 

Sam’s words from last night came back to him.

__

_ “I don’t know- but Dean, unless Cas is an asshole, I don’t know why I’d have a problem with you two! Why is it so hard for you to accept that I accept you?” _

Dean really hoped that was the case. But if it wasn’t-

He scrubbed harder. Sam would like Cas. It would be fine. 

Hopefully. 

Cas had lectured Gabriel again and again about behaving. 

He really hoped his brother would listen. 

Then again, Cas thought as they turned onto Dean’s street, Gabriel wasn’t known for his listening skills, or his ability to behave. With any luck, though, Meg’s threatening would keep him in check for at least long enough to make a good impression. Or a not bad one.

Cas parked the car on the side of the road and looked at the complex. Then he turned to Gabriel. 

“Remember,” he started, but was cut off. 

“Yes, Cassie, don’t embarrass you in front of your boyfriend, don’t scare off your boyfriend’s brother, behave, yada yada yada. I remember.” 

Okay. So maybe Meg’s threatening hadn’t worked. There wasn’t anything Cas could do about it.

“Come on,” he said, and got out of the car, Gabriel tailing after him. 

Dean was waiting in the lobby, along with someone else. Cas had to look up to meet (he presumed) Sam’s eyes. 

Dean lit up when he saw Cas, greeting him with a quick kiss. “Hey, Cas! Glad you could come.” He caught sight of the pie Cas was holding. “You didn’t.”

“Gabriel did,” Cas said, pleased to see Dean’s grin widen. 

  
“I knew it was a good idea to invite him,” Dean said. 

(Probably) Sam huffed a laugh. 

Dean seemed to remember that he was there and pointed to him. “The sasquatch here is Sammy.” 

Gabriel whistled appreciatively next to Cas. “Now that, Cassie, is a man.”

Sam smiled as though he hadn’t heard. “Hi! It’s great to finally meet you!” he said enthusiastically. 

Cas returned the smile. “I’m glad to meet you as well. Dean speaks very highly of you.” 

“What am I, a salad?” Gabriel complained. “Dean, please introduce me to your super sexy and super tall brother.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “That’s Gabriel, he’s a pain in the ass.”

Gabriel smirked. “What can I say? I can do plenty in the-“

“ _ Okay,  _ that’s enough,” Dean said loudly. “You guys want to head upstairs? I’m making bolognese and garlic bread, since  _ someone _ insisted we eat healthy tonight.” He grabbed Cas’ hand and pulled him towards the elevator. 

“So,” Cas heard Gabriel say behind them, “Sam. Samantha. Tell me about yourself.”

“Doesn’t Gabriel have a girlfriend?” Dean asked. 

“Yes,” Cas said. 

“I’d be willing to break up with Kali for a man like that,” Gabriel said. 

“Uh, thanks?” Sam said. “But I have a girlfriend.”

Cas laughed at the betrayed face Gabriel made. 

The hallway outside Dean’s room smelled good.  _ Really _ good. Inside, it smelled even better. Usually, the food only smelled this good in restaurants. 

When Cas told Dean that, Dean blushed a little. “It’s nothing super fancy,” he insisted. “Here, you want to help me out with the food? It’s simmering now, but I don’t have the bread done.”

“Bad idea, Dean-o,” Gabriel said. “You do  _ not _ want him helping with the food.”

“Not much of a cook?” Sam asked. 

“I… get by,” Cas settled on. 

“On frozen pizza and takeout,” Gabriel clarified. “Get him in the kitchen and it’s a disaster. Either he burns things, or adds way too much salt. Or both.”

“I can’t really cook either,” Sam said. “I’ve been living off cold pizza and salad all year.” 

“Let me guess,” Dean said. “Rabbit pizza?”

“They’re vegetables, Dean, it’s healthy-“

Dean rolled his eyes. “Sure, and gross. C’mon, Cas, I’ll give you a cooking lesson.”

Cas hesitated, then moved into the kitchen area. 

Gabriel shook his head. “You’re going to regret that,” he said surely. To his surprise, the dinner was excellent. 

Cas attributed that mostly to Dean, who waved it off with a, “it was a team effort.”

Sitting knee to knee at Dean’s small table, the meal started off quietly. Everyone was more than happy to just eat. By second helpings, they were chatting animatedly. Dean and Cas played footsie under the table during pie. 

When Sam caught them, he smirked and told them to get a room. 

“Well, Sam, if you and Gabriel want to clean up after we’re done, I could go for a second dessert….” Dean winked at Cas. 

Sam choked while Gabriel howled with laughter. 

“Let’s not traumatize your brother,” Cas suggested. 

Dean scoffed. “What, you think I’m not any good?” 

“I’m sure you’re better than good,” Cas said. He opened his mouth to continue but was cut off. 

“Can we go back to not traumatizing me?” Sam pleaded. “Yeah? Great. Thanks.”

Gabriel took the silence that followed as an opportunity to start sharing every embarrassing story from Cas’ childhood. Cas would have made him shut up, but most of them made Dean laugh, and Cas figured he could endure the retelling of the fiasco that was his first day of second grade in exchange for that. 

When Gabriel had gotten through at least half of all the embarrassing things Cas had done from age three to his senior year (it was, unfortunately, a long list), Dean went to grab beers for everyone and turned the mortification to Sam. 

“When we were little, there was his year- Sam and I dressed up as Superman and Batman. Sammy here thought he could fly, so he jumped off the roof of the shed behind Bobby’s. Broke his arm.” 

“You were the one who told me I could fly,” Sam argued, shooting a look at Dean. 

“You were the one who believed it,” Dean reminded him. 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch. And then there was another time, in middle school or something, he had a crush on this chick named Ruby-“ 

Sam groaned. “If you tell them about that, I’ll tell them about Rhonda Hurley.”

  
Dean went red. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Sam said. 

“Do tell, Moose,” Gabriel said. “I’ve been looking for blackmail on Dean-o since he started dating Cassie.”

“Cas already has blackmail material on me,” Dean said. 

Gabriel turned to Cas. “Really? And you didn’t tell me? I’m wounded.”

Cas shrugged. “It’s more effective if it’s only between Dean and I.”

“And Charlie and Bobby,” Dean added. 

“And Charlie and Bobby,” Cas agreed. 

Sam looked between them. “Did Dean do something blackmail worthy since I left?” 

“No!” Dean said forcefully. 

“That’s Dean for yes.” Sam caught Cas’ eye. “What happened?”

“I swear, Cas, if you tell him-“

“I’ll trade you,” Sam offered, “blackmail for blackmail.”

“I’ll give you a pie for blackmail,” Gabriel said. 

“I’ll give you stuff on Sam for a pie,” Dean cut in. 

“How much stuff?”

“Three stories,” Dean said. 

Gabriel was skeptical. “Didn’t you just tell us a bunch of stories?” 

“I’ve got more,” Dean promised. 

Gabriel considered. “What kind of pie?”

“Apple,” Dean said without missing a beat. 

“Alright. And, just because I’m nice, I’ll throw in some blackmail on my dear brother here.”

“Ha! Told you I’d have something on you before your birthday,” Dean crowed.

“Would either of you like blackmail material on Gabriel?” Cas asked cooly, looking at Gabriel. “Unless he’d like to refrain from giving Dean blackmail on me?”

Gabriel scoffed. “You don’t have anything on me.”

“Really? So you’d be completely fine if I told them about the time Lucifer kicked your-“

“Okay! Okay, sorry, Dean-o. Just the pie.”

Cas nodded, satisfied. 

“Anyway, Cas,” Sam said impatiently, “what happened?”

“Didn’t you say it was more effective if only you and I knew?” Dean said.

“You make a good point,” Cas said. “Thank you, Dean. Gabriel, would you go stand out in the hall?”

Dean and Gabriel spoke at the same time. “ _ What? _ ”

“That’s not what I meant!” Dean said hurriedly. 

“You’re going to tell him and not me? You’ve known him for two hours!” Gabriel protested.

“When Gabriel was in high school,” Cas started, “he-“

“Okay, okay! Fine! I’m going!” Gabriel hurried out of the apartment. 

Dean stared at Cas. “You’re cutthroat, man.”

Cas tilted his head. “I haven’t cut anyone’s throat.”

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Sam. 

“Hey, Dean, do you think you could go check on Gabriel?” he said. “Make sure he’s not eavesdropping or anything?” 

“He wouldn’t have to eavesdrop if Cas wasn’t spilling the beans,” Dean muttered, but stood, then pointed threateningly at Sam. “Don’t hit on my boyfriend while I’m gone.” 

“I have a girlfriend,” Sam reminded him. 

“Well, Jess can’t compare to this angel, so excuse me for being protective.”

Cas smiled at Dean’s words. 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Dean said, then headed for the door. Once it had shut behind him, Sam turned to Cas. 

“So before Dean comes back,” Sam said seriously, “I’ve just gotta make sure- look, Cas, it’s obvious you and Dean are into each other. And you’re a pretty good guy. But if you break his heart….” 

“I understand,” Cas said, and he did. If he hurt Dean, he’d have Sam to deal with. The knowledge of that was strangely reassuring. “I’m glad you care about him so much, Sam. He’s lucky to have you as a brother.”

Whatever Sam had been expecting Cas to say, it had not been that. He blinked a few times, then nodded slowly. “Uh, thanks. I’m happy that we’re on the same page. So, uh, what did Dean do?” 

Dean came back in just in time to hear Cas explaining how Dean had admitted to being a nerd. 

Sam grinned. 

“Two hours,” Dean grumbled good naturedly. “It took you two two hours to hang up against me.”

“Can I come back in yet?” Gabriel called through the door. He came back into the apartment before anyone could answer. “I was out there for three whole minutes!” 

“That’s not very long,” Cas said. 

“Of course it is.” Gabriel waved him off. “So, Samantha, what’d I miss?”

Eventually, their beers were gone, and Dean was walking Cas and Gabriel down to Cas’ car. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said when they reached the lobby. 

“‘Course,” Dean said. “I’m glad you and Sam get along.”

“I’m glad as well,” Cas said. They were quiet for a moment. 

“Speaking of your charming brother,” Gabriel said loudly, “would you give this to him?”

Dean took the slip of paper Gabriel passed him and sighed. “Sure.”

“Great! Thanks, Dean-o! Cassie, I’ll meet you in the car.” Gabriel bounced off. 

“You sure he’s your older brother?” Dean asked. 

Cas nodded. “We could check his birth certificate to be certain, but that seems like a lot of work.”

“Yeah.” Dean paused. “Hey, uh, Cas?”

Cas looked up at him. Dean’s eyes were beautiful, Cas found himself thinking, even though he’d seen them a hundred times. He couldn’t imagine Dean’s eyes ever being anything but beautiful. 

“Remember at Bobby’s, the game night we were talking about? We’re going to have one Thursday, if you wanted to come?” 

Cas smiled. “I’ll see if I can get Gabriel to cover for me. It’s likely he’ll be able to.”

“Great,” Dean said. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Cas’ lips. 


	17. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Destiel has gone cannon four times now. Only in the spn fandom.  
> So with this chapter, the beginning kinda references Bobby and co. knowing that Dean and Cas are a thing, and then later not knowing Dean and Cas are a thing. Just gonna clarify, because rereading this to edit confused me the first time through: Dean is obvious and everyone (except for Kevin) knows he likes Cas, but Dean hasn’t explicitly told them yet. Also, gonna be 100% honest, I have no idea how you record a mixtape, so that might not be completely accurate.

Once Dean had realized that Sam and Cas were getting along and that Sam approved of his choice in men (then again, Dean couldn’t imagine _not_ approving of Cas) he didn’t shut up. Between just mentioning the florist in casual conversation or telling whoever he was talking to about something Cas had said, it was almost impossible for Dean to go longer than an hour or two without mentioning his boyfriend. 

  
Sam found it amusing. Charlie found it endearing. Bobby snapped at him and told him that Cas had better be at the game night, even if it only shut Dean up for the night. Dean could tell, despite threatening to throw a wrench at him if he mentioned Cas’ eyes one more time, that Bobby was happy for him. 

Things…. Things were actually falling in line. Life was _good_. 

There had been a night a few weeks ago. He had been over at Cas’ apartment. At one point they had been watching a movie. Watching the movie had turned into long, slow kisses, and it had just been the two of them. The night had been _theirs_. It had been perfect. 

  
Dean didn’t remember exactly what had led up to it, but he remembered Cas saying between kisses, “Good things do happen, Dean.” 

And they did. Good things did happen.

It was strange. Before Castiel Novak, there had been little things. Sam. Baby. Work. Those were the good things, the stuff he focused on to drown out the bad. Now, Dean didn’t have to try to drown out the bad, with liquor or that hippy positivity crap. Good things just were. Cas just was. 

How Dean had gotten lucky enough to find Cas, well, he didn’t know. But he was happy. 

The last time he had been at his boyfriend’s apartment, Dean had noticed Cas had a player for cassette tapes. Cas had told him that he had bought it at a garage sale on his way to Sioux Falls from New Haven when he and Gabriel had left home. He still didn’t have any tapes. Dean was determined to fix that. 

Currently, he was sitting on his bed trying to make a mixtape.

_Got no time for spreadin' roots_

_The time has come to be gone_

_And though our health we drank a thousand times_

_It's time to ramble on_

_Ramble on_

_And now's the time, the time is now_

_To sing my song-_

The apartment door opened loudly and Sam said, “So get this! I was-“

  
“Dammit Sam!” 

Sam poked his head into the room. “What?” 

Dean gestured angrily to the boombox he was using to record the tape. 

“Oh.” At least Sam had the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry.” 

“Now I have to restart. Great.” 

“You know we have to be at Bobby’s in an hour, right? And we have to pick Kevin and Cas up?” 

“Shit.” There was no way he was going to have this done for Cas by the time they had to pick him up. 

  
“If it makes you feel better, I got bacon when I was at the store.” 

“That might be the smartest decision you’ve made at the store. Ever. I mean, seriously, vegetables?”

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled bitchface eleven. “Well, at least I’m not going to have a heart attack before I’m forty.”

“Screw you.” 

“Yup, you know I’m right.”

Heart attack or no, you don’t _not_ eat good food. Like burgers. Or bacon. Or pie. So what if it kills you? At least you die eating something delicious.

Sam left, leaving Dean to the boombox. 

Dean stopped the recording. He’d have to do it tomorrow. Maybe before lunch. Then, when Cas was on his lunch break, he could head down to the flower shop and give it to him. 

It was a good excuse to see Cas. 

When it was time to leave, Sam and Dean made their way to the Impala. Dean was carrying a large cooler full of beer, which he loaded into the trunk. Then, he ducked into the driver’s seat, turned the keys, and began the short drive to Kevin’s house. 

Linda Tran was a force of nature. Dean had barely stopped the car when she marched up and told him that Kevin had to be home by eleven. 

“Sorry about that,” Kevin apologized when she had gone back inside. 

“Not a problem.” Dean hit the gas. “Just make sure we’ve got you back on time so she doesn’t skin us or something.” He wouldn’t put it past her to do that; Mama Tran could be fucking _scary_. 

The drive to Cas’ didn’t actually take too long, but it felt like forever. By the time Dean had parked the Impala on the side of the road outside Cas’ apartment, he was practically itching to see him. 

  
“I’m gonna go grab Cas,” Dean said. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He got out of the car and made his way to Cas’ apartment door. Dean knocked. 

There was some shuffling behind the door before it was opened by someone who was _not_ Cas. The dark haired woman smirked lazily before she glanced behind her. “Your boyfriend is here, Clarence.” She looked Dean over, then addressed him. “He wasn’t lying when he said you were good looking.” 

“I try not to disappoint,” Dean said. “Who are you?” 

“Meg Masters,” Meg said. She jerked her head towards the inside of the apartment. “His best friend and an ex-felon, so if you break his heart, the police will never find the body.”

“I told you that you didn’t have to threaten him,” Cas said, appearing in the doorway. He smiled when he saw Dean. “Hello, Dean.”

Like it had taken to when Cas greeted him like that, Dean’s heart skipped a beat. “Hey, Cas.” He grinned back at him. 

“You two are _so_ in love, it’s disgusting. I’m going to get a cavity just watching you,” Meg said almost mockingly. “Alright, go have fun. Remember to use a condom.” 

Cas blushed slightly and stepped out into the hall. “Goodnight, Meg.” 

Meg’s smirk widened before she shut the door. 

“ _That’s_ Meg?” Dean said.

“That’s Meg,” Cas confirmed. 

“Huh. You sure she’s the one who likes unicorns?”

“Fairly certain.” 

They began making their way down the hall. 

  
“Sam’s sitting shotgun and I’m driving. You mind sitting in the back by Kevin? Or we can force Sam in the back, if you’d rather sit in the front,” Dean offered. It would be easier if Cas just sat in the back, but he was kind of hoping Cas would decide to sit up front with him. He’d never admit it, but Dean loved watching Cas out of the corner of his eye when they drove. The way the light hit him while Baby was moving made Dean’s breath get caught in his chest. Cas was beautiful when they drove. Not that he ever wasn’t beautiful, but even more so then.

“I don’t mind the back,” Cas said. 

Dean ignored the brief flare of disappointment in his chest. “Alright.”

“It’s probably safer that way,” Cas continued. 

“Why is that?” Dean asked. 

“You tend to watch me more than the road,” Cas said matter-of-factly, “and we have a minor and your brother in the car.”

Damn. He’d thought Cas hadn’t noticed. 

“It’s not my fault you’re so distracting,” Dean grumbled good-naturedly. 

Cas smiled and grabbed his hand. “My mistake. Is there anything I can do to be less distracting?” 

They had made it outside now. The sky was growing dark and was painted in blues, indigos, and purples. 

Dean turned to look at Cas. 

That small smile- Jesus, that smile- was lighting up Cas’ face. His eyes were bright and fixed on Dean like he was the world. That must be why Dean’s heart skipped a beat when he thought about Cas. Because-

His heart skipped another beat when it hit him. 

“Never change,” Dean said. 

_Never change because I love you_.

Cas’ smile grew even more sincere.

Dean smiled back. He leaned in and-

There was a loud honk from where the Impala was parked on the street. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, turning towards his car. _Sam didn’t just do that._

“Are you two Just going to stand and stare at each other all night? Or are we going to go? Someone’s got to kick Charlie’s ass at Dr. Mario!” Sam called out the window.

  
“Way to ruin the moment, sasquatch,” Dean muttered. He leaned forward and kissed Cas chastely. “He does have a point though, someone has to knock Charlie down a peg. What do you say, we ready to go?” 

Cas nodded. “If you are.” 

“Great. You wanna pick the music?” 

Sam couldn’t stop laughing when Cas picked the music. Cas didn’t get it. 

“Is the song not adequate?” he asked, confused. 

“No! No, it’s fine!” Sam managed to get out. “It’s just- Dean-“

“You shut your cakehole,” Dean snapped, though it lacked venom. 

“Dude, you are so-“

Dean cranked up the volume, effectively cutting off Sam. 

When they got to Bobby’s Auto, Charlie was waiting for them at the door. 

“What’s up, bitches?” she said cheerfully. 

“Hey, Charlie!” Sam grinned. 

  
“Sam. Hope you’re prepared to get your ass kicked.”

“You wish.” 

Charlie ushered them inside. 

Downstairs in the staff room, things were almost exactly the same as they had been when Cas had last been there. The pool table had some bags of chips and other snacks strewn across it. Most of the folding chairs were set up in front of the blocky TV, which was displaying a title screen Cas didn’t recognize. The only chair not in front of the TV was occupied by Bobby. 

Bobby stood when they came in. “Oh, good. You’re here. Next time you’d better not make me wait on the beer,” he said grumpily, opening the cooler Dean had carried out from the car. 

“Mind letting me set it down first, Bobby?” Dean asked. 

Bobby rolled his eyes endearingly and grabbed a beer. 

“Now that everyone’s here,” Charlie said, “let’s get playing.”

This was the part Cas was anxious about. Sure, he had already met Sam, Charlie, Bobby, and Kevin. That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about doing something wrong around them, failing miserably at game night included. 

“Since I’m nice, Sam gets to keep his winning streak of undefeated for a little longer, so first… who wants to take me on in Galaga?” Charlie surveyed the small room. Her eyes landed on Cas. 

“I’m in,” Kevin said. 

Cas let out the breath he’d been holding. 

“Don’t think you’ve escaped, Novak,” Charlie warned. “You’re on, Kevin.” 

Cas felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Trust me, you can’t be worse than Bobby,” Dean assured him. 

“I heard that, idjit!” Bobby called. 

“Trust me, I can,” Cas said. 

“Hey, Bobby. Next game. You, me, Cas. Mario Kart. You in?” Dean looked at Cas conspiratorially. 

“You gonna stop talking about me behind my back?” Bobby said. 

“Sure.”

“Fine.” 

“Dean, I don’t know how to play Mario Kart,” Cas said. 

“I’ll show you,” Dean promised.

They turned their attention back to Kevin and Charlie’s game. 

Charlie was dominating. Kevin stood no chance. Within a few minutes, their game was over. 

“Beat that!” Charlie crowed. 

“Rematch,” Kevin demanded. 

Charlie won again. And again. And again. 

They went through five rounds before Kevin gave up. 

“Load up Mario Kart, Charlie,” Dean instructed, taking a seat. “Bobby, get over here.” 

Charlie was all too happy to do so. 

It took a few minutes for it to load, then Dean’s tutorial began. 

“So, you’re gonna pick your guy- I always do Bowser.” He pointed to a yellow, shelled figure. “Sam always picks Peach-“

“That was one time, Dean,” Sam complained. 

“You won, though,” Kevin shrugged. 

“Peach is superior,” Charlie nodded. “Daisy is way cuter, though. Not gonna lie, I’d marry her.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Bobby said. 

“Yeah,” Charlie said. “But I think she’d be okay with it.”

“Dean has a boyfriend and he still calls his car Baby,” Sam offered. “If Cas can live with that, I bet your girlfriend could get over your crush on a video game character.”

“True. You haven’t met Gilda yet, right?” Charlie asked. “I should introduce you, I think you’d like her-“

  
“Hold on a minute!” Kevin interrupted. He gestured to Cas and Dean. “You two are dating?”

The Mario Kart theme continued to play, despite how quiet everyone had gotten. No one spoke for a moment.

Dean had gone slightly pink and stumbled over his words. “I, uh, we- we-“ 

Cas wasn’t sure what to do. His first instinct was to reach over and squeeze Dean’s hand, something small, just to remind Dean he was there. To offer support. But Dean hadn’t told everyone here about their relationship, and if he wanted to continue to keep it quiet, Cas didn’t want to jeopardize that. Not if it was something Dean wanted. He would love to be able to touch Dean there, outside of friendly, platonic seeming gestures. If Dean wasn’t ready, though, Cas would wait. 

“Fuck it,” Dean whispered. He leaned over towards Cas and kissed him hard on the lips. “That, uh, that answer your question?” 

Everyone, Cas included, was thrown into silence.

  
_Dean had just kissed him in front of his family._

“They literally made out in front of the car when we picked Cas up,” Sam said, breaking the silence. He turned to Kevin. “Did you miss that?” 

“They made out in front of the car? Wait, you mean tonight?” Kevin said.

“Knew you wouldn’t let me down, Dean. Alright, Kevin, pay up,” Charlie grinned. 

Kevin groaned. 

Cas squinted at the scene in front of him. “What’s happening?” 

“I think they were betting on us,” Dean said. “This…. This is not how I thought that would go.”

“Hey, Castiel,” Bobby said. “You break that boy’s heart-“

Dean’s blush deepened. 

Despite the fact that, for the second time that week, he was getting that speech, Cas couldn’t hide his smile. 

“He’s not going to break my heart, Bobby, geez,” Dean muttered. 

“It’s alright, I told him,” Sam said. 

Bobby nodded. “Good. Remember that, Cas.” 

If possible, Dean went ever pinker. “You _what_ , Sammy?” he said, mortified.

“You two are my new OTP,” Charlie said. “I ship it.”

“I don’t understand,” Cas said. “What do boats have to do with Dean and I?”

Bobby shook his head. “Idjits.”

“Okay!” Dean said loudly. “We’re done talking about my love life. So, Cas, who are you going to pick?” 

Cas ended up playing as a character Dean called “Yoshi.” As he had expected, he was awful. 

For the first two races, Dean simply encouraged him. (It only distracted him more, which led to Cas driving his car in the wrong direction or into walls a lot. Dean didn’t seem to get that he was distracting.) In the third race, he took matters into his own hands. 

“Alright. Sam, you race for me.” Dean passed his controller to Sam, then stood and moved to stand behind Cas’ chair. He put his hands over Cas’, which were still gripped around the controller. “Follow my lead. Let’s kick some ass.”

Charlie squealed from somewhere off to Cas’ side. “They’re so cute!” 

The screen counted down to go, and Dean pressed one of Cas’ fingers down to hit the gas. 

Cas really did try to focus on the race, but that was impossible with Dean so close to him. 

(They finished in last, behind Bobby.)

Eventually, they moved on to other games. At about nine, Cas got a text from Meg. 

_Your place is empty. Went to a bar. If you and freckles want to do anything, I won’t be back until late. Probably._

Despite the fact that he sucked at the games, he was having fun. Dean was enjoying himself, too. Any other night, he may have taken advantage of his empty apartment. 

It was about a half hour later when Dean’s eyes started flickering towards the door. Cas wasn’t the only one who noticed. 

“If you and Cas want to get out of here, I can drop off Sam and Kevin,” Charlie said after an intense game of Packman. 

  
“What do you say, Cas?” Dean asked. 

“I’ll do whatever you would like to do,” Cas said. 

“You sure, then, Charlie?” Dean checked. 

Charlie nodded. “Yup. Get out of here with your Leia, Han. I’ll record it when I beat Sam.” 

“Thanks,” Dean said. “We’ll head out, then. Later, guys.” 

Quick goodbyes were exchanged, then Cas and Dean made their way out to the Impala.

Dean picked the music on the way back to Cas’ apartment. He rolled the windows down and sang loud and off key. 

Cas didn’t stop smiling the whole way home. 

Dean walked him to the door. 

“Does your offer still stand?” Cas blurted. 

“What?” Dean said. 

“Your offer,” Cas said. “The one you made about doing more than sleeping sometime.”

Dean stared at him. 

When he didn’t respond, Cas began to panic a little. He had said something wrong. Or Dean didn’t want to. Or he didn’t remember. Or-

“Cas, are you asking me to…?” Dean said carefully. 

“Only if you want to,” Cas said hurriedly. “Meg went out, so my place is empty-“

Dean grinned. “Lead the way.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a new favorite quote besides “y yo a ti, Cas.” May I present:  
> “Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.”  
> That is all.


	18. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m now writing the epilogue! I’m pretty excited, but it’s also weird since I’ve been working on this story since... August? It’s very weird.   
> Also, I was going to have an actual plot to this besides Cas and Dean falling in love. It was going to be cool. And then I had too much fun writing fluff, so that got thrown out the window. Sorry, folks. Anyway, speaking of fluff, enjoy some domestic destiel in the beginning of this chapter.

Last night was  _ awesome. _ That was the only way to describe it. Even more awesome was waking up the next morning to Cas curled up against him, one arm thrown over his bare chest. 

  
Dean smiled into Cas’ hair. There was a fierce swell of love in his chest. 

That terrified him. He hadn’t ever felt like this before, for anyone. But Cas-

Cas made him happy, Cas was perfect, Cas was everything he wanted, everything he needed. And he’d be fucked if he let that go. 

  
Cas stirred as Dean wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer. 

Dean wasn’t sure how long they laid there before Cas woke up. 

Cas grumbled something against Dean’s chest. 

“‘Morning to you too, Cas,” Dean said. 

“What time is it?” Cas opened an eye blearily.

Dean turned his head to look at the bedside clock. “Seven thirty.”

“Good, I can go back to sleep. Work isn’t until ten.” He closed his eyes again.

“You want me to try and make you breakfast?” Dean offered. 

“Later,” Cas mumbled. “Right now you’re staying here.”

Dean laughed. “No complaints, man.”

“Good.” Cas burrowed further into Dean’s side. 

This was perfect. 

They stayed like that for another hour before Cas grudgingly let Dean get up to make coffee and breakfast. 

“Meg isn’t back yet,” Cas noted, watching Dean rummage around in his fridge. “Should we be worried?” 

“When she goes to a bar, does she usually leave with company?” Dean said. 

“More often than not,” Cas said. 

“Then she’s probably fine,” Dean said. “Bet she hooked up with some guy and spent the night at his place. Got some action in. Nothing like we had, though.” He winked at Cas.

Cas blushed slightly.

He was absolutely adorable when he blushed. Dean made a mental note to make him do that more often. 

“I… I do think that last night would be hard to top,” Cas said, sounding pleased.

“Well, we’ll just have to try sometime, huh?” Dean grinned when Cas’ blush deepened. 

The room fell into a comfortable silence while Dean cooked. Cas seemed content just watching Dean, only moving from his chair to quickly water his plants. 

“Come on,” Dean complained teasingly when he did. “You love your plants more than me?”

Cas said, completely deadpan, “Yes, Dean. I care about this shrub more than I do my boyfriend. I assumed that went without saying.”

“Wow. Thanks, Cas. Glad to know what your priorities are.” 

By half past nine, they had both eaten. Cas was clad in his usual trench coat, much to Dean’s displeasure, (“I’m not saying you don’t look badass in it, because you do. But what if you get too hot? You’d better not get heat stroke or something.”) and they were sitting in the Impala outside the flower shop. 

“I should probably head in,” Cas said. He made no move to get out of the car. 

  
“Probably,” Dean agreed. He didn’t move either. It just felt so  _ right,  _ the two of them there,  _ together. _

Cas leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips. 

It was probably only supposed to be one, but it ended up being more than that. 

They were lost in each other, taking their time just to be. There was no rush; it was just the two of them in this world, shielded from everything but each other by the frame of the Impala. 

It wasn’t long enough when Cas’ phone buzzed loudly. 

They broke apart. 

  
Cas pulled the phone from his pocket and sighed. He showed the message to Dean. 

_ I can see you and dean-o, you know _

__

_ It’s quite the show _

“Son of a-“ Dean looked towards the window in the front of the shop. 

Gabriel waved, then continued typing.

__

_ Don’t stop on my account _

“I’m going to throttle your brother,” Dean said. 

“I might be tempted to help you,” Cas nodded.

__

_ Also samantha hasn’t texted me yet _

__

_ Did I do something wrong?? _

__

_ I know you’re reading this dean answer me _

It looked like Gabriel was typing another message. 

“I should head in before he finishes typing that,” Cas said. 

“Yeah, I guess. I’ll see you then, Cas.” Dean smiled softly at him. 

“Goodbye, Dean.” Cas returned a small smile before opening the door and ducking out of the car. 

Dean waited until Cas was in the flower shop before driving off towards home, radio on loud. 

He was in a good mood- a great mood. He’d gotten to wake up this morning next to Cas. Sam was still okay with Dean’s bisexuality, and so were Bobby, Charlie, and Kevin. Dr. Sexy was getting another season. Led Zeppelin was blaring over the radio. Baby had almost a full tank of gas. 

And he was in love with Castiel Novak. 

Things were perfect.

Things were perfect until he turned onto his street to find smoke billowing out from his apartment complex.

Gabriel grinned when Cas came in. “You two were busy last night.” 

“How did you know?” Cas said, not bothering to deny it. 

Gabriel pointed to Cas’ neck. “That wouldn’t be there if you weren’t. So tell me, Cassie! I want details! Not all of them, but ya know, did you go further than the eye sex? Did he stick his-“

“This is a work environment, Gabriel,” Cas interrupted.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Gabriel-“

“Oh, fine. I’ll ask a different question. Did your demon friend complain about the noise?” 

“Meg wasn’t at the apartment, she went to a bar. Do we need to restock on roses?” 

“No, we’re fine. We need more lilies, though.” 

“Alright.” Usually, Cas would just remember, but this time he scribbled  _ ‘lilies’  _ onto a scrap of paper laying next to the cash register. Right now, though, he didn’t think he was going to stop thinking about Dean.

There had been something almost different in the way Dean had looked at him last night. Something almost more vulnerable, more raw, more reverent. As though Cas was worth the moon and stars. 

  
Did Dean love him too?

The thought that maybe- just maybe- Dean felt the same way about him made a smile come to Cas’ face, one he couldn’t tamper down no matter how hard he tried. 

While he took stock of the flowers, Cas let himself think about it; a future for the two of them. This wasn’t the first time he’d imagined it, but it was certainly the most realistic time, where it seemed a little less of a thing of fantasy.

They’d have a house with a nice garden, and a large garage for the Impala. It would have a good kitchen, one where Dean wouldn’t be cramped when he cooked. They’d wake up next to each other every morning and go to bed together every night. Maybe he’d have a ring on his finger to match Dean’s. Maybe- maybe instead of Castiel Novak, he’d be Castiel Winchester.

  
The best part about all of this was that it could happen. Cas could really see it. He could see how the firelight from the fireplace would play off of Dean’s eyes in the winter, see the two of them curled up on the couch watching movies, how- 

“Dean-o’s got you good, huh?” Gabriel said, snapping Cas back from his thoughts. He smirked. 

It was an unusually busy day. Fridays were often busy, but rarely were they busy enough that there was almost always someone in the shop. It was busy enough that neither Cas nor Gabriel were able to break for lunch until around three. 

  
That was about when the call came. 

“Hello?” 

Dean was almost apologetic on the other end of the line. “Uh, hey, Cas. Look, I know you’ve got Meg staying with you, but, uh, could I crash at your place for a bit?” 

Dean… wanted to stay with Cas? 

No, it couldn’t be that. Dean had an apartment, if he wanted to progress to the living-with-each-other stage (they weren’t at that stage yet, were they? Cas was hoping they were or getting close, but it would probably be a few months at the soonest before either of them tried to broach the topic.), he would say something before stopping renting, and his apartment didn’t collect rent for another two weeks. So then-

“Of course, Dean. Did something happen?” Cas asked, trying to control the worry pooling in his stomach.

Something had to have happened. 

“The apartment building burned down. Sometime this morning, before I got back.”

_ Thank god he stayed with me last night  _ was all Cas managed to think. Thank god Dean was okay. If he had gone back to his place last night-

Dean continued, “Sam’s got a room at Bobby’s. There’s nowhere there for me there unless I want Bobby’s couch, which is worse than mine.”

“He’s okay?” Cas checked. 

“Yeah, Sammy’s fine.” Dean sounded relieved.

“And you’re okay?”

“I’m alright, Cas.”

Cas let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Do you need me to come get you? Gabriel can manage the shop for the rest of the day, I can-“

“Don’t leave your job on my account. I’m fine, I’m at Bobby’s right now, and I’ve got Baby. I’ll drive over by you when you’re getting ready to close, okay?” 

Not, not okay, Cas needed to be able to see Dean, really see that he was okay. He could have died, he could have-

  
“Okay,” Cas said. “But you’d better be here when we close. On the dot.”

“It’s a date.” It almost sounded like Dean was smiling. “Thanks, Cas.”

“Of course.”

So. It looked like he and Dean were going to be living together sooner than he had thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I keep screwing Dean over. Why is it always him? I dunno. Maybe I should feel bad, but this is a gateway to more fluff. Oh well. Sorry, Dean.


	19. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Destiel’s on a hunting trip, and it hasn’t gone cannon in a few days.   
> Anyway, with the chaos of the holidays, I forgot today was Monday, so the update is late. My bad. We’re in the home stretch. Just two more chapters and an epilogue....

At six o’clock on the dot, the Impala pulled up in front of the flower shop. 

  
Cas left Gabriel with their last customer and rushed outside. Dean had barely stepped onto the sidewalk when Cas embraced him. 

Dean’s arms took a moment to wrap themselves around Cas. 

In Dean’s arms, it hit Cas. 

He could have lost him. If things hadn’t worked out the way they did, he could have lost him. 

Cas wasn’t sure what he would have done without him, if Dean had-

Dean seemed to read his thoughts. “I’m fine, Cas,” he said, voice muffled against Cas’ shoulder.

“Dean-“

He should say it. He should go ahead and say it, three short words, then and there. 

“-I’m glad you’re okay,” Cas said instead. 

Dean held him almost imperceptibly tighter. “Me too.”

The above the shop door rang behind Cas as the last customer left. 

Gabriel poked his head out. “Cassie, grab your stuff and you can head out, I’ll close up today.” 

Cas didn’t make any move to let go of Dean. 

  
Gabriel sighed. “Fine, I’ll get it.” He disappeared back into the shop. 

It wasn’t until he reappeared that Cas let go. 

Gabriel passed Cas his things. “Alright. Get out of here, lovebirds. And Dean-o, make sure to give Sam my best!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Will do, Gabriel. C’mon, Cas.” 

They got into the Impala and began the short drive to Cas’ apartment. 

Dean seemed almost unbothered by the fact that his home had burned down. Cas could tell something was upsetting him, though. Normally, Dean would turn on the radio or pick some music. Now, it was quiet in the car. 

Cas didn’t mention it. He wouldn’t force Dean to talk unless he was comfortable with it. 

“Meg said she would make some frozen pizza,” Cas said. “I hope that’s alright.” 

“Sounds great,” Dean said. “Normal pizza, right? Not any of Sammy or Kevin’s crap?”

“No vegetables,” Cas confirmed. 

“A man after my own heart.” The corners of Dean’s lips turned up briefly in the ghost of a smile. 

When they had parked the Impala and made their way up to Cas’ apartment, Meg was waiting for them. 

“So, freckles is here. I take it you had a good time last night if you’re here again,” she said, looking between Cas and Dean. 

“You know why Dean is here, Meg,” Cas said. 

“His place started on fire, I heard. So the sex has nothing to do with it?” Meg raised her eyebrows at Dean. 

“It’s a bonus,” Dean said. 

Cas went slightly pink.

Dean grinned. “You know, Cas, you’re really cute when you blush.”

That made Cas go even more pink. He smiled and met Dean’s eyes.

“It’s disgusting how sweet on each other you are,” Meg commented. “Pizza’s going to be done in a few minutes.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Meg,” Dean grumbled. 

“Sure thing.” Meg winked at him. 

Dean rolled his eyes, then turned to Cas. “So, uh, where am I sleeping?” he asked. 

“Meg is on the couch. I figured we could use the bed.” Cas realized what he had said, then hurried to add, “Or if you’d rather sleep alone, I can take the floor-“

“No way are you sleeping on the floor. We can share,” Dean said. He sounded pleased. 

“Good. I mean, I was… I hoped you would say that.” 

“Can’t figure out why I wouldn’t. I like sleeping next to you.” 

A warm, soft feeling made its place in Cas’ chest at that. 

_ Love,  _ Cas knew.

“I like sleeping next to you as well,” he said. 

Meg snorted behind him. 

“What?” Dean said. 

“Nothing.” Meg tried for a straight face. “Just listening to you two. I laughed, I cried, I puked in my mouth a little. It’s like watching a chick flick.”

“Wha- this- this isn’t a chick flick!” Dean said indignantly. “No chick flick moments. Winchester rule.”

“That’s your rule, Dean,” Cas said. “Sam seems to be completely fine with ‘chick flick moments.’”

“You had a chick flick moment with Sam?” Dean demanded. He seemed almost jealous.

“No. Did you want me to have one with him?” 

“No!”

“Would you rather I had one with you?” 

“Yeah! Wait, no-“

Cas grinned. 

“Son of a bitch!”

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Cas said. 

  
“You’d better not blackmail me with that too,” Dean said.

“We’ll see,” Cas shrugged.

The oven dinged and Meg moved to pull the pizza out.

Smoke had billowed out of the brick building in thick, black ribbons. Thick enough that Dean hadn’t been able to see the flames he knew were on the other side of the windows that it escaped from. 

The Impala slowed to a stop as he watched, not quite registering what was happening. Then-

_ Sam. Sam had gone home last night. _

Dean pulled Baby to the side of the street, and nearly tripping over himself trying to get out, ran towards the building. 

_ “Sam! Sammy!” _

When he got within ten yards of it, he was held back by a firefighter. 

“Sir, you need to stay back.” 

Even from where he was standing, the smoke still stung Dean’s eyes. “My brother- he was home last night-“

“We have people in there right now,” the firefighter said. “If he’s in there, they’ll find him.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Dean snapped. “I have to take care of him, I-“

The firefighter’s tone softened a little. “What’s his name? Sam?” 

“Sam Winchester,” Dean said. 

“Is he tall?”

“He’s practically a sasquatch, yeah. Is he-“

“He’s fine,” the firefighter assured him. “I was on the debate team with him in high school. Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that tall other than him.” 

_ Fascinating _ as meeting one of Sam’s friends from high school was, Dean was impatient. It must have shown on his face because the firefighter said, “He got out right away, he was already on the street when we got here. Check over there.” He pointed to a cluster of people a ways away. 

In the middle of the group, Dean could see the back of Sam’s head. 

“Thanks,” Dean said hurriedly, then made for Sam. 

Sam was talking with Benny. 

“-not sure where we’re gonna go. Andrea’s folks are in Greece, the closest family I’ve got are cousins in Louisiana. We can’t close the Seas,” Benny was saying. “And don’t get me wrong, Alfie’s great, but he can’t run the place for that long.” 

“Maybe- Dean!” Sam caught sight of him. 

“Sammy, thank god.” Dean visibly relaxed. He nodded at Benny. “Glad to see you’re in one piece.”

“Likewise, brother.” Benny looked him over. “There a reason you weren’t home when hell broke loose?”

“He and his boyfriend were having sex,” Sam said blatantly. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me throw you into that building, Sam.”

Benny huffed a laugh. “Your boyfriend the guy you had me make coffee for a week or two back?”

“Uh, yeah. He liked it, by the way.”

“‘Course he did, it’s my coffee. You’d better introduce me sometime,” Benny said. 

“Sure thing. I’ll even invite you two over for dinner- well.” Dean looked back at the apartment complex. “Maybe not dinner.”

They had watched the smoke continue to billow upwards.

Now, hours later, Dean was sitting in Cas’ kitchen.

Tomorrow, he decided while they were eating the pizza, he was going to go to the store so he could cook something for dinner. Do something nice for Cas. Since Cas was letting Dean stay with him, and he deserved it. 

Cas deserved everything. 

  
Thank god they hadn’t gone to stay at Dean’s last night. The thought of-

Dean pushed the thought down and took a bite of pizza. 

Dinner was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. When the food was gone, conversation started as naturally as it had stopped. 

They talked about everything and nothing, Meg throwing in snarky comments here and there. Dean hadn’t been sure what to think of her when they first met, but he had to admit, however grudgingly, that she was something. Now, the three of them talked as though they had known each other for years, despite that not being the case. 

It wasn’t very late when they decided to turn in. After a brief goodnight to Meg, Dean and Cas made their way into Cas’ room. 

“Do you need something to wear for pajamas?” Cas asked. 

“Long as it’s not your bee pajamas,” Dean said. 

Cas squinted at him. “Do you not like them?” 

Dean offered him a small smile and shook his head. “I think they look the best on you.”

Not ten minutes later, Cas crawled into bed next to Dean wearing the pajamas. 

They laid in silence for a while.

Cas’ breath was comforting. Steadily in and out, again and again, next to Dean. 

_ I love you,  _ Dean thought.

He fell asleep to the rise and fall of Cas’ chest, the two of them pressed up against each other.

Despite the fact that his apartment had burnt down, Dean fell asleep home.


	20. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, another short chapter!  
> Next week is gonna be the last week of updating since I won’t make anyone wait an extra week for an epilogue.  
> I hope everyone has had a good start to the year! Just gotta ask... did anyone ever expect we’d be able to say “destiel went cannon last year” and not be lying? I did not, but I’m here for it. Anyway, happy new year!

They fell into an easy routine. 

  
Dean woke up first, then made coffee. After that, he woke Cas. Cas would water his plants and watch Dean make breakfast. Meg would get up at random- sometimes before Dean, other times after Cas- and either make fun of Dean for being a textbook housewife, or whisper to Cas that he’d found a keeper. (When she did the first, Dean told her to shut her cakehole if she wanted food. It didn’t always work.)

After breakfast, Dean would leave for Bobby’s Auto, leaving Cas and Meg. They would find something to do until Cas had to walk to the flower shop. On Fridays, when Dean stopped in, he’d drive Cas home. On his off days, he’d make dinner. Some nights, Cas would help. 

When dinner was over, they’d watch a movie or play a game (or if Meg was gone, utilize the bed). At the end of it all, they would fall asleep, tangled together. 

Granted, Dean would hog the tv sometimes to watch Dr. Sexy and wouldn’t fold his laundry. He’d get on Cas’ case every so often for leaving his dishes in the sink instead of loading them into the dishwasher. Even with that, Cas wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

  
Imperfect as it was, it was theirs. It was good. 

Cas could get used to that routine. He  _ was _ used to it. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like longer. Like he’d been waking up next to Dean for years, like Dean had always been wearing his clothes (after a few days, Dean had gotten his own clothes, but he still frequently stole Cas’). 

The best thing about their arrangement was that Dean’s apartment wouldn’t be set for residents to move back in for a few months. As far as Cas was concerned, they had all the time in the world. 

It was mid-July when their routine changed. 

“Clarence, freckles,” Meg announced, “I hate to disappoint, but I’m moving out.”

“Really? When?” Cas asked. 

“Two weeks. It’s closer to work. Also means I don’t have to deal with you two.” 

Cas wanted to feel guilty about Meg having to put up with him and Dean, but he didn’t. 

“Don’t worry,” Meg said, smirking at him. “I’ll still come over and annoy you frequently.”

That night, when he and Dean were laying in bed, they talked quietly.

“It’ll be nice,” Cas admitted. “Having the place to ourselves.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “I mean, I know she’s your friend, but-“

“Yeah.” Cas hesitated. “Dean, when your apartment is ready, are… are you planning on staying there?” 

Dean turned his head to face Cas. He was silent.

Cas couldn’t make out his expression. He panicked. Had he been too forward? Was- should he have not tried to-

“Are you- Cas, are you asking me if I want to move in with you? Like, for real?” Dean said, voice soft. 

  
“I- yes,” Cas said. “If you want to, that is.” 

“Okay,” Dean said. 

It took a moment for it to register. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Dean leaned forward ever so slightly to press his lips to Cas’. “I-“ He seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say next. “I’m happy you want me to stay,” he settled for. 

Cas knew that wasn’t what he had wanted to say, but he didn’t press. Instead, he kissed Dean again. “I’m happy you want to stay.”

“‘Night, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Neither of them fell asleep quickly. Cas could feel Dean breathing against him, relaxed but not asleep. They didn’t talk, just existed. 

Cas didn’t know how long it was before he drifted off. But when he did, he was happy. Dean wanted to stay. 

Cas usually woke up to Dean trying to extract himself from Cas, or to the smell of Dean’s cooking. The next morning, it was with his arm around Dean’s waist.

Dean’s fingers were laced between his, and it was obvious he was awake, though he hadn’t made any move to get up. “Morning, sunshine.” 

Cas smiled, eyes still closed. “Hello, Dean.”

“I’m off of work today,” Dean said. “Got Gabriel to let you off, too. We’ve got the whole day to ourselves.” 

“Is there a reason for that?” 

“Well, we’re officially living together now,” Dean said. Cas could hear the grin in his voice. 

“That’s true.”

“ _ And _ we’ve known each other for exactly six months now.”

Cas blinked his eyes open. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Figured that was kinda special, right?” 

  
Had it only been six months? Six months since Dean showed up asking for a “fuck you” bouquet, joking about wanting whatever anemone was more poisonous? Since he had walked into Castiel’s life with his bright, almost cocky smile and his obscure pop culture references Cas didn’t always get and his dusting of freckles and his way of making Cas feel like he was floating and everything else that made him beautiful? Everything else that made him Dean Winchester?

“That’s extremely special,” Cas said. “I know exactly how we should celebrate.”

“Oh?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

  
“You’re going to stay in bed with me and we’re going to sleep in. Then we’ll figure out breakfast. And then,” Cas said, “we can do what you’re thinking.” 

Dean wrapped an arm around Cas and pulled him closer. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Dean didn’t know why he couldn’t say it. 

_ I love you _ . 

Three words. Three simple words that he meant, maybe more than anything else. 

Probably because those words were so final. Saying them out loud would make them real. 

It wasn’t that Dean didn’t want to love Cas- loving Cas was like a drug; it was a high he didn’t think he could ever come down from. The thing was, if he did come down, if Cas didn’t feel the same, Dean hit the ground hard and he doubted he’d be able to get back up. 

And anyway, who said Cas felt the same way?

And even if he did, Cas deserved better. Cas deserved the best. 

It had taken almost two hours before Cas let him get out of bed to make breakfast. It was another fifteen minutes before Cas joined him in his-  _ their- _ kitchen. 

Wordlessly, Dean passed him a cup of coffee. 

Cas accepted it with a smile that made Dean’s heart flutter in his chest. 

  
Whether he deserved Cas or not, he had him. 

Dean returned the smile. 

“So,” Cas said, “we met six months ago today, but it was several weeks later when you took me to the Roadhouse. We’re still celebrating, though. Does that mean we’re only celebrating us meeting?”

“We’ll celebrate everything,” Dean decided. “Meeting. Me asking you out and you agreeing. Uh, spending the night together for the first time. You meeting Sam and Bobby and Charlie and Kevin. Asking me to move in.” 

“That’s a lot of celebrating,” Cas remarked. 

“Well, yeah. I think it’s worth it, though.” 

Cas’ response was almost too quiet for Dean to hear.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

Dean turned back towards the griddle he was making pancakes on. 

He wanted to tell Cas. 

Three simple words. Words didn’t seem to work, though.

As Dean flipped one of the pancakes, a lush, potted lilac across the apartment caught his eye.

He had an idea.


	21. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Here it is. The last chapter. Plus the epilogue, which will me up momentarily.   
> Thank you so much to everyone who’s taken the time to comment, subscribe, or leave kudos on this story. The support has meant a lot, and I’m so happy that you were able to enjoy this story.   
> Currently, I’m working on some new stories, but I have the feeling that I’ll be back to this ‘verse for some time stamps and/or interludes. Not sure when, but I’m throwing a heads up out there for anyone who might be interested.   
> And now, may I present to you: the last super short chapter of Bouquet, followed by an epilogue!

They added another anniversary a few weeks later. 

  
Dean wasn’t home when Cas came back from work. Dean usually got off before him, which usually meant he was home first, but now, Cas was the only one in the apartment. 

It was strange; home hadn’t been this quiet in weeks. Meg had often been around the apartment, prone to making sarcastic quips. Even after she had moved out a week ago, Dean had filled the space, either humming AC/DC under his breath or watching something on the tv. Now, it was quiet, except for one of the residents a floor above Cas, who was pacing valiantly. 

Despite having gone years with the quiet, Cas found it almost uncomfortable. 

He moved to fill the watering can. The water seemed to echo more than usual as it hit the bottom of the container. 

Cas was taking care of the plants on their _ (their!) _ small, iron balcony when he heard the telltale rumble of the Impala’s engine below. He looked down as the car slowed to a stop on the side of the road. 

Dean climbed out of the driver’s seat, then glanced up. He seemed surprised for a moment to see Cas, then raised his hand in a wave. 

Cas smiled and waved back. 

Dean gestured towards the apartment.

Cas squinted at him and tilted his head. What was Dean trying to say?

Dean tried gesturing again, to no luck. 

Cas shrugged at him. 

“I’ll meet you inside,” Dean called up. 

_ Oh.  _ Cas nodded, and still with a small smile on his face, moved back into the apartment. 

He tucked the now-empty watering can into the cabinet under the sink and began waiting for Dean. It should have only been about a minute before he came up, but one lapsed into two, and two into three.

Cas was just starting to entertain the idea of looking for him when the apartment door opened.

Dean stepped inside and smiled. “Hey, Cas.” He seemed… almost nervous… and was holding something behind his back with one hand. 

“Hello, Dean.” Cas crossed the room and gave him a chaste kiss. “Took you awhile.” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I, uh, I got these for you.” Dean revealed a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and thrust it at him. 

Cas took it gingerly, fingers brushing Dean’s. He examined the bouquet, then froze. 

_ Pink camellia, longing.  _

__

_ Satin-flower, sincerity.  _

__

_ Heartsease, you occupy my thoughts. _

__

_ Moss rosebud, confessions. _

__

_ Snowdrop, hope. _

__

_ Red chrysanthemum- _

Cas took a shaky breath. 

  
_ Red chrysanthemum,  _

  
_ I love you. _

“Dean-“ He tried to remember how to talk. “Dean, I-“

Dean was staring at him, eyes searching his, wide with hope.

“Do- do you mean it?” Cas managed. 

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” 

Cas’ face broke into a wide smile. His eyes may have been a little damp when he surged forward to capture Dean’ lips with his own. “I love you, too.”

The flowers were a little worse for wear when at long last they broke apart.

“I love you, too,” Cas repeated, almost giddy. 

He was in love with Dean Winchester. And Dean loved him back. 

That was enough. That was more than enough. 

They put the bouquet in one of Cas’ many vases and left it out on the counter, then ordered takeout. 

That night, Cas fell asleep on the couch, leaning against Dean. When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was Dean’s even breathing and the hand he had threaded through Cas’ hair. The tv was still on, playing some soap opera.

Across the room, Cas caught sight of the flowers. 

Cas drifted back asleep. Happy.

“So, Dean-o. What can I help you with? You were pretty secretive when you texted me last night.” Gabriel squinted a little at him. 

“I need some flowers,” Dean said, then hesitated. 

“I figured that much, we’re in a flower shop. You could have just asked Cassie, you know. Unless….” Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him.

“I want to tell him I love him,” Dean blurted. 

Gabriel smirked. “Knew it. The way you look at him… I almost feel bad for Cas’ demon friend; she had to put up with you two love birds for weeks. You’re a goner.” 

Yeah, he was. Dean couldn’t imagine his life without Cas. It hurt to think about sleeping alone, hurt to try and picture a future without him. Without Cas… well, there was no without Cas. There couldn’t be. There couldn't be a future without seeing one of his smiles or hearing his voice or falling victim to his soul-searching eyes.

Dean was a goner, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Don’t think that doesn’t mean I won’t call Loki and have him kick your ass if you break his heart,” Gabriel warned.

“Your friend who’s the hit-man?”

“Yup. Sometimes hit-woman. Sometimes hit-enby. Usually hit-man, though. And on Sundays, he’s a real estate investor.” 

Deans blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” 

Gabriel grinned. “I am. He’s a stripper on Sundays, not an investor. The investor gig is Fridays.” When Dean didn’t respond, he continued, “Anyways, flowers. I think I know what to get for you.” He moved from behind the counter, holding a pair of scissors. Pink camellia for longing. Snowdrops for hope. Satin-flower for sincerity. Moss rosebud would be a nice touch, and we can’t forget the heartsease for eye sex-“

“Gabriel-“

“I’m kidding, it’s for being obsessed in a non-creepy way. And, of course, red chrysanthemums.”

Dean watched as Gabriel bustled around. 

“Gotta ask, though. You and my brother talked about the future?” 

Dean didn’t know why the question surprised him. “No, but I, uh, I’ve thought about it.”

Gabriel caught his eye. “Do tell.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s not anything special,” he said, even though the opposite was true. With Cas, it was always special. 

Gabriel gave him a look. 

Dean huffed. “Me and Cas. Together.”

Gabriel waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, he sighed. “That’s all you’ve got? You’re in love with him and ‘together’ is all you have?”

Dean shrugged. “Don’t care about the rest of the details.” 

“Really.” Gabriel began wrapping the flowers. “Here’s a detail you might want to consider: you married?” 

Dean didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.” 

“Well, whenever you pop the question,” Gabriel said, passing him the bouquet, “you have my blessing. As long as I get to be the flower girl.” 

Dean sputtered for a moment. “I- wait, you- what? Flower girl?” 

Gabriel just grinned wider. “Later, Dean-o. Go find your true love.” He flicked his hands at Dean, shooing him out of the shop. 

Dean stood in the street for a moment. Had- had Gabriel just-?

_ Later _ , Dean told himself. Now, he was going to go home, he was going to give that bouquet to Cas, and he was going to hope Cas got it. He could worry about their future another time.

As Dean slipped into the Impala, he wondered how Cas would react. 

He wasn’t disappointed. 


	22. Epilogue: Happiness

**_Epilogue: Happiness_ **

**_A Year and a Half Later_ **

“Hey, Cas. You in there?” 

“I- yes. Dean-“ Cas rolled his eyes as the door creaked open. “You know it’s bad luck to see the person you’re going to marry until the wedding, right?” He turned around. 

Dean was dressed in a tux, minus the jacket, which he had pulled off. His eyes were bright and his smile vibrant. 

Dean grinned at him. “Pretty sure that’s only for brides.” He crossed the room and huffed. “Let me help you with that.”

“It’s fine,” Cas insisted, but he didn’t stop Dean from fiddling with his tie. 

“All those hours I spent teaching you how to tie a tie and you still can’t do it.”

“I was a bit distracted,” Cas said. 

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“By what?”

“You.”

Dean finished fixing his tie. “What can I say? I’m pretty distracting.” 

__

_ “Dean? Dean, where are you?” _

“Shit.” Dean glanced toward the door. “Sam. I gotta go. See you up there?” He looked back to Cas. 

  
Cas smiled. “Of course, Dean.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “For good luck.” 

  
Dean leaned back in. 

__

_ “Dean, come on! Dean?” _

“Love you.” With a last smile at Cas, Dean disappeared.

“I know,” Cas called after him. 

Dean poked his head back inside the room and stared incredulously at him. “Did- did you just Han Solo me?” 

Cas hid his smile. “Maybe.”

“I could kiss you,” Dean said. 

“Save it for the altar,” Sam said, appearing in the doorway. “Come on.” He offered a quick, amused nod to Cas, then dragged Dean away. 

Cas stared at the door. When he turned away, it was to glance at the clock hung on the far wall. 

Half an hour until he was getting married. Half an hour until he was getting married to  _ Dean. _

Cas was almost giddy with excitement. 

“Little bro, when I get married, I’m not forcing anyone to wear a suit,” Gabriel grumbled, coming in. “These things are itchy.”

“It’s only for a few hours, Gabriel,” Cas said. 

“A few hours that I’m not going to have sugar for! These pockets are all sewn shut!” 

“Somehow, I think you’ll manage.” 

Gabriel looked him up and down. “You ready?” 

Cas nodded solemnly. 

Gabriel grinned and-  _ were his eyes wet? _ “My little Cassie, all grown up.”

Cas squinted at him. “I’ve been a legal adult for years.” 

Gabriel laughed. “True. Here, I’ll help you finish getting ready.”

Dean’s face hurt from smiling so much. The thing was, he couldn’t stop. He didn’t really want to stop. He was getting married to  _ Castiel fucking Novak.  _

  
He was marrying Cas. For real. It wasn’t just a fantasy or something to file as a dream. 

According to the clock, he’d be a married man in about twenty minutes. 

Holy shit. 

“Sam-“

  
Sam cut him off right away. “It’s going to be fine, Dean. Seriously.” 

“Right. Yeah.” 

Don’t get Dean wrong, he couldn’t remember ever being this happy, except for maybe when Cas had proposed, but he wanted to make sure this wedding was everything Cas deserved. 

The minutes crawled by. Dean paced, unable to stop moving, until Sam gently grabbed his arm and said, “Come on. You’ve got a guy to marry.” 

_ Not just a guy,  _ Dean thought.  _ Cas. _

With that, he took a breath, then let Sam guide him down the hall and to the aisle. 

Dean wasn’t religious, but even he had to admit that the chapel was stunning. It had a high vaulted ceiling. On either side of the aisle, the pews were made of sturdy wood that almost gleamed with varnish. The stained glass windows were colorful and luminous. 

The beauty of the church was forgotten when he saw Cas. 

Despite having tried to tame his hair, it still stuck up in a few places. The navy tie Dean had fixed for him had somehow gotten flipped back around. 

_ God, he was adorable. And he was Dean’s. _

Dean met his eyes and beamed. 

Cas smiled radiantly back. 

This was it. The two of them. Dean and Cas, Cas and Dean. Even as the ceremony began, Dean couldn’t quite believe it. Not until after they had rings to match and had left the church. Not until the reception at the Roadhouse, when Gabriel made a point of congratulating “Castiel Winchester.” 

Then and there, Dean leaned over and kissed his husband long and hard. Cas kissed back. The guests applauded, and there were a few whistles. All of it was forgotten. In that moment, it was just them. Dean and Cas Winchester.

So this was what happiness was. 


End file.
